


More Perfect Than We Think

by jewelianna88



Category: Popslash
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-23
Updated: 2011-04-23
Packaged: 2017-10-18 13:33:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/189398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jewelianna88/pseuds/jewelianna88
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>College AU.  Justin and Lance fall in love in Boston.</p>
            </blockquote>





	More Perfect Than We Think

More Perfect Than We Think

Justin took another swipe at the coffee drips on the counter, scowling at the green and white sign that proclaimed “Now! Open till 11!”. It was his fourth year behind the counter at the not-quite Starbucks in the Barnes and Nobles, Kenmore Square. After all, Boston University was expensive. Even with financial aide and being an RA, he needed to supplement his income with a few days at the coffee shop to afford tuition.

The new, later hours, though, were killing him. He still had an econ midterm to study for, and all he wanted to do was wander the few blocks to home, a single room in a Bay State Road Brownstone, and crawl into bed.

Looking around, the place was nearly empty. Except for a quick rush after classes got out at ten, no one wanted coffee this late at night. Justin was tempted to begin clean-up, but then someone always came in wanting a macchiato, and he would end up doing more work setting up and cleaning again later. So for now, he let his mind wander as he stood, leaning on the pastry case.

There was a guy sitting in the corner. He was hunched over a laptop with a textbook open on the chair next to him. He was kinda cute, Justin supposed. Wire rim glasses, dark blonde hair that was standing in unruly spikes, as the guy kept running a free hand through his hair.

Whoever he was, at precisely five to eleven, he closed up his laptop, threw away his empty coffee cup, got up, and left. Sighing with relief, Justin flipped off the lights behind the counter, closed up the register, and took off for home.

Justin was a senior this year, which meant only one more year of this before being thrust into the real world. At least, that’s how he saw it. He fully intended to enjoy every moment of college, since he worked so hard and sacrificed so much to get here. Unlocking his room, he flipped on the lights, stripped out of his work shirt and pants, and sat down at the computer wearing only his boxers. Even though it was only October, the heat was on full blast in the dorms.

There were three IMs on his computer- one from Chris, one from his brother, and one from Britney. Only Britney was still online, so he turned off his away message and waited for her to IM again.

Slave4U: Home from work?  
Justified: Yup.  
Slave4U: Just wanted to tell you the final date for the ball is Nov. 1  
Justified: K. Got it in my PDA.  
Slave4U: Too bad Chet can’t make it.  
Justified: Yeah, well. Date a Marine and they tend to be away for times like this.  
Slave4U: So there’s no chance of us getting it on, then?  
Justified: Sadly, no.  
Slave4U: Eh, a girl can try. I gotta shower, ttyl.  
Justified: Bye

Justin shut down the computer and grabbed his econ book. Econ was kicking his butt, his last gen-ed requirement. He had a full time internship next semester, so he needed to finish all his required classes in the fall. Designing his own major meant that every class he picked had to be approved by about ten different people in five different departments. He didn’t really know why he needed economics to be a music producer, but BU says, so Justin did. Sighing, he grabbed his workbook and began to do sample problems.

**

The next night, that guy was back. It was a little busier, thankfully, and Justin’s tip cup was nearly full by nine thirty. When things started to slow down, he took a moment to watch the customer in the corner. Same glasses, new sweatshirt and jeans. Justin was tempted to say something, but he looked like he was studying awfully hard, and Justin didn’t want to interrupt.

On the third night, though, he was even more intrigued. He didn’t even realize that he was staring until a customer standing right in front of him had to tap the bell to startle him out of his reverie.

“Oh. Sorry.” He smiled up at her as she pulled a wallet from her bag.

“It’s OK. Can I have a tall caramel frappucchino?”

“Sure.” As Justin moved to make the drink, he felt his eyes traveling back to the guy in the corner. No laptop tonight, just a pad of paper and a pencil. Math, he supposed, capping the cup and turning back to the customer, smiling brilliantly.

“Is this all?”

“Yup. You should go talk to him,” she said, digging for change.

“Huh?” Justin rang up the order on automatic pilot and handed her back a few dollars.

“The guy. He looks nice. Go for it.” Then she took her coffee and was gone, leaving Justin stunned at the counter.

He gulped, and looked to the window. Justin wasn’t shy, not at all, but he still had reservations about hitting on a guy while he was working.

There must be a first time for everything, which is why he poured a fresh cup of coffee, lifted up the bar, and walked up to the front corner table.

“Thought you could use a refill,” he said, smile in place.

The guy looked up, dazed and confused. Justin was met with a pair of beautiful green eyes.

“Hmm? Did I order that?”

“No.” Justin, willing himself not to blush, set down the cup. “I just thought yours must be either gone or cold, so I thought you’d want some fresh. On the house.”

“Oh. Thanks.” The guy looked up at Justin, not really sure what to do. Justin shifted awkwardly.

“We don’t get many people studying in here.”

“Oh.” The guy scrunched up his nose. “The library smells really bad. I don’t know how people can stand it.”

“I know!” Justin exclaimed. “I don’t go there unless I have to!”

“You a junior?” the man asked.

“Senior. You too?”

“Grad school. SMG.”

“Yeah? Impressive.”

“I suppose. I’m Lance, by the way,” the guy said, extending a hand.

“Justin.” Justin pointed to his name tag, and grinned. “And I’m keeping you from studying, so.”

“Yeah. Thanks for the coffee, Justin.”

“You’re welcome.” Justin went back to the counter, and Lance left a while later with a little wave. At eleven, Justin closed up the shop, happy that he didn’t have to come back for a few days.

**

Chris was in town for the weekend, and dragged him to a party out in Allston. Chris had been a TA in Justin’s intro psych class a few years ago, and they hit it off. He traveled, now working for a textbook company, so Justin only got to see him about twice a semester.

The guy, Joey, was nice enough, and had a fridge full of beer. Most of the people who were at the party had already graduated, so Justin didn’t know any of them. He was making some obligatory small talk when he spotted a familiar dark blonde head in the corner by the window. Hooking another beer with his index finger, he wove his way through the crowd over to Lance.

“Hey,” he said, handing Lance the beer.

“Hey! Justin, right?”

“Right. Didn’t expect to see you here. Takin’ the night off from studying?”

Lance grinned. “Exam was today.”

“Ah,” Justin said, and raised his glass in a toast. “So you’re celebrating.”

“Yup. I guess so.”

“So, what you’re a friend of Joey’s?” Justin asked, taking a sip of beer.

“Mmm. We used to go to music camp together as kids, and I crashed here when I got into town, before I found my own place.”

“Cool.” Justin leaned against a sofa arm, relaxed. “I’m glad I saw you, man. I didn’t know anyone. Not that I know you, or anything. My friend, Chris--“ and he pointed to the corner, where Chris was draped over a short blonde girl who was giggling madly, “is otherwise occupied.”

“Sucks, man. But same here. These guys are Joe’s friends, I don’t really know them, except that one in the red- he threw up on my shoes once.”

Justin snorted in laughter. “Sorry, sorry. That’s not funny.”

“No, it is. It’s OK.”

The guys sitting on the sofa got up to watch a foosball game, so Lance and Justin grabbed the seats. It turned out that Lance was working on a master’s in management, with hopes of becoming an artist rep or manager someday.

“Why music?” Justin asked.

“I’ve always loved music. When I was a kid, I was fascinated with MTV and collected many tapes and CDs the way most kids collected footballs. I just always knew it was something I wanted to go into. I know that Boston isn’t the best place for that, and that most people don’t get degrees, but I really wanted to have a background in what I’m studying, you know? Not just learn trial-by-fire method. As it is, I’m working part time at this small record company, mostly doing administrative stuff, but I’m hoping it’s gonna be a jumping of point.”

“No, I know. I mean, I wanna produce, right? Hip-hop, probably, something cutting edge. But I want to make sure that I have something to fall back on, or at least to use until I get well-known enough to make my living behind the table.”

“Sounds like your mama trained you well,” Lance commented.

Justin’s face grew solemn, and Lance immediately regretted making the remark. “Sorry. I guess not?”

Justin shook his head. “No, it’s just. She didn’t want me to come to college, thought that it was a waste of talent to sit in a classroom all day. She means well, but just. She thinks she still knows what’s best for me.”

Lance bobbed his head in agreement, scratching his knee at the same time. “OK. That must be tough, man.” Justin nodded and picked at the label on his beer bottle, not meeting Lance’s stare.

Looking around, the awkwardness of the moment suddenly overwhelming, Lance focused on Joey, and realized that his friend must be pretty drunk. He was wearing the beer funnel on his head as a hat, singing some opera in a high falsetto. Lance grinned and was about to point it out to Justin when Joey caught his eye.

“Lance! Lansten, my man. Guys, do you know Lance?” he announced, to anyone in general. “I’ve know Lance since I was SEVEN! How many friends do you have from when you were seven? Lance is my very best friend, even though he likes boys.”

“Joey!” Lance hissed, face flushed red. “Shut. Up. Now.” Justin started at Lance curiously, wondering where this revelation had come from. Lance was gay? He didn’t get a chance to fully process, though, because Joey wasn’t done.

“Lance, you found a boy! I’m so happy for you!” Joey stumbled over and hugged Lance ineptly. “You should kiss him,” he said in a stage whisper.

“Joey, go away,” Lance muttered, trying to shove off his friend, but Joey had already started to chant “Kiss him, kiss him, kiss him!” Others joined in, and Lance looked like he was about to fade into the cushions.

So Justin did the only thing he could think of. He kissed him. Just leaned over and pressed his lips against Lance, who froze up instantly, then relaxed and let his eyes drift shut as Justin’s lips massaged against his. Justin faintly heard the whoops and hollers from the room, but mostly his brain was exploding in sparks of something. No, not sparks, fireworks. Big, massive, heat, loud, passionate explosions of-- wow.

When he pulled back and smiled at Lance, he watched the other man’s eyes drift open and then his face lit up in a massive smile.

“Sorry,” Justin said, with an impish grin. “Got caught up in the moment.”

“Some moment,” Lance said, his voice a little lower and more hoarse than usual.

Justin smiled in return, rubbing a hand along Lance’s denim-clad thigh, feeling firm muscle beneath. “Yeah.”

Then something clicked in Justin’s brain and he realized that everyone was watching him. “I think I should go.” He waved to Chris, then pointed to the door, indicating he was on his way out. Chris waved back and smiled, never letting go of the girl.

“Oh. OK.” Lance’s face fell, and he slid back away from Justin. Justin tightened his grip on Lance’s leg, holding on tight until Lance looked up at him, confused.

“Walk me out?” Justin asked, and Lance smiled.

**

Saturdays were meant for sleeping in. Unless you were an RA.

Justin grunted when he heard the phone ring, and rolled over, groping blindly for the cordless on the floor. Grabbing it just before the voicemail picked up, he grunted “ ‘lo” and tried to wake up.

“Justin? It’s Amy, I think I lost me keys? My roommate’s not home, can you let me in?”

“Sure. One minute.” Groaning, he rolled out of bed, slid his feet into a pair of age old Birkenstock sandals, and left, wedging the trash can in the door to keep it from locking behind him. He let the girl in the foyer door, tried to smile at her gratitude, then stumbled back to bed. Walk of shame, he thought, and promptly fell back to sleep.

A little while later, the phone rang again, and Justin realized that he’d slept clear through until the afternoon. More alert this time, he sat up and answered.

“Hey, Justin? It’s Lance.” Immediately, Justin perked up, drawing his legs up beneath him on the bed.

“Hey! What’s going on?”

“Nothing really. Just sitting here, not wanting to study.”

Justin grinned. “Word. I hear that. I’m taking the weekend off, man, after midterms and shit.”

“Definitely. Hey, are you doing anything this afternoon.”

Justin scowled. “I’m on call, I’ve gotta be in my room till seven, then go to the office.”

“Oh. OK.”

“Why, what were you thinking?”

“Well, the Head of the Charles is today, so I was thinking about going down to the river and watching some of it, and thought you might wanna come.”

Justin smiled into the phone. “Come over here. I can see it from my window, or we can go out on the fire escape.”

“Isn’t that illegal?”

“Yup. But I’m in charge, so who’s gonna bust me?”

“Fair enough. What time, and where are you?”

Justin relayed the information, happy that not only had Lance called, but he wasn’t going to be alone in his room all day. Then, realizing he needed to clean, he hung up, pulled out a Dustbuster, and got to work.

**

Lance arrived not long later, and the two spent the better part of the afternoon sitting on Justin’s windowsill watching the boats move up and down the Charles River. The Head of the Charles was a major regatta in the world of collegiate crew teams, so there were races all day long, both men’s and women’s teams. Lance had never seen a regatta before, so Justin tried to explain the boating practices as best he could.

“We used to have some of these at home in Memphis, big ones on the Mississippi,” Justin said, as they watched the boats go by. “I crewed for a while in high school.”

“Really?” Lance asked. “We didn’t have any sports like that. Just football. And then, after graduation, Nascar.”

“That’s so wrong,” Justin said, shaking his head.

“I know. Hence, I left.”

Justin giggled. “You just said hence.”

Lance smiled back. “Yup. I did. All part of that archaic Southern charm.”

Too soon, the fall air grew crisp and the two were forced to close the window and sit inside the room. Since Justin couldn’t leave to get dinner, and he didn’t want to kick Lance out yet, he ordered pizza from Dominos, the only delivery place that would take his dining points.

“So, do you like being an RA?” Lance asked, in between bites of pepperoni and capers.

Shrugging, Justin wiped tomato sauce from his mouth before answering. “It’s OK. It means not paying for housing, so.” Taking a sip of his soda, Justin waved to indicate that Lance should take the last piece, but he shook his head no. Snatching it up before Lance could change his mind, Justin took a big bite and grinned. “I can’t believe you like this. I thought I was the only one in the world who’d eat pepperoni and capers.”

“I did too. Must be kismet or something.”

“Fate, destiny, whatever, you’re gonna have to come by more often if it means more pizza. It’s just not as good reheated, and I won’t eat a whole one in one sitting.”

“Would that be OK? I mean, coming by more often?” Lance was blushing a little, nervously watching Justin from beneath lowered eyelids.

“Sure,” Justin said not pausing to give Lance a second to reconsider. He liked Lance, and the prospect of sex was too good to pass up. Shallow, he knew, but didn’t care.

“Good.” Lance smiled, and Justin noticed his grin was a little crooked. It only added to his appeal.

“Very good.” Justin would have liked to talk more, or maybe do more, but it was almost seven and he had to go. Lance offered to walk him to the office.

Justin threw on his jacket and grabbed his keys, but stopped Lance before they left the room.

“Hey, what’re you doing tomorrow?.”

“Nothing, really,” Lance replied. “I’ve got plans for dinner with Joey and his roommates, but that’s all.”

“Would you want to go play Ultimate with me in the afternoon?”

“Ultimate?” Lance asked, confused.

“Ultimate Frisbee?” At the blank look on Lance’s face, Justin explained, “You’ve never played? It’s kinda like soccor, only with a Frisbee.”

“Is it, like, a league?”

“Nah, just some friends. We play every Sunday. Do you want to come? I mean, if you’re not sick of me.”

“Definitely not sick of you. And sure,” Lance agreed. “Why not?”

They set a place to meet at one by the park. Then, because he didn’t want to do it on the street in front of the housing office, he gave Lance a goodbye kiss right there. It made him a little late for work, but it was worth it.

**

Justin had a phone message from his dad when he got back at midnight, that they were coming up next weekend for parents’ weekend. They were staying someplace downtown, and wanted Justin to meet them on Saturday morning at the airport, and his brothers are very excited, can he think of something they can all do together? Justin grinned at the notion of showing his brothers around his city. He fired off an email to his dad with a few suggestions, then stared at the phone. He really should call his mother. It was only eleven in Memphis, she’d be awake.

No, she informed him when he did get up the nerve to dial, she’s not coming to the event. She didn’t have the money to be flittering off around the country at a moment’s notice, and it’s not that important is it? Besides, Paul wouldn’t want to come, he doesn’t like to travel.

Dwelling on the fact that he was gonna at least have his dad and brothers around, Justin tugged on a pair of sneakers and a pair of track pants. He took to the streets in an easy jog, then picked up the pace through the empty neighborhood. It was late enough, and there was a chill in the air. He had most of the city to himself, watching taxis crawl by looking for fares. As he ran, he tried to push all of the hurt out of his head. It didn’t come much anymore, after three years, but when it hit, it hit something fierce. By the time he was back home, he’d run all the way to the Hatch Shell and back. He collapsed, exhausted, into a restless sleep.

**

At one on the dot, Lance was waiting at the T stop wearing track pants, a long-sleeved T-shirt and sneakers, the same as Justin. As they walked over to the park, Justin briefed Lance in the rules of the game.

“You can’t move when you have the Frisbee, but every other time you can. You have to toss it to another team member, and work it down the field until you pass it to someone in the goal. If no one catches it, or it’s intercepted by the other team, the Frisbee changes possession. Get it?”

“I think so. I’ll pick up on it.” As they neared the park, Justin waved to his friends. “They’re really cool.”

The group waiting for Justin an eclectic mix of guys and girls. “Hey, guys. This is Lance. This is Howie, Raj, Mandy, Elon, Colleen, Nick, Nick, Mike, and Luke.” A general hello went up around the group, and they set about dividing teams and getting started. Lance and Justin ended up on opposite teams.

Lance caught on pretty quickly, and really got into the game. It was a fast paced game. Unfortunately, he could not throw the Frisbee for his life.

“C’mon, Lance. Get it past me, come on,” taunted Justin, guarding him at an incredibly close distance. Trying to fake a throw under Justin’s arm, the Frisbee wobbled in the air and fell into Colleen’s hands, on the other team.

Justin took off, and Lance sighed, chasing to catch up and guard him. One of his teammates, a Nick he thought, clapped him on the back. “ ‘s OK, man. He’s a bitch of a guard.” Lance grimaced, and reached Justin just as he passed off the Frisbee into the goal. He grinned at Lance.

“Having fun?” he asked. Lance nodded grimly, as Justin ran off laughing.

It wasn’t much fun for him, though, until he found that he could CATCH really well. Therefore, he stationed himself inside the goal and just waited for the Frisbee to come to him. Within minutes, his team scored three goals and tied the score. Justin came by and smacked him on the ass after his last catch.

“Looking good, Lance. But you gotta stop this, you’re making me lose.”

“Whine, whine, whine,” Lance laughed, giving Justin a playful shove. “Go play, superstar.”

The game ended when Nick and Mike had to go for some fraternity thing that night, and the rest of them collapsed in an area of shade by a soccer goal post. Some of the guys pulled water bottles from their bags and passed them around.

“Lance, you kicked ass for your first time,” Raj commented.

“Thanks,” he replied. He hoped he wasn’t blushing too badly.

“You gonna come back?” Raj asked, and Lance shrugged.

“I dunno. Depends on whether or not I’m invited.” He glanced shyly at Justin, who was currently pulling on a sweatshirt. He paused with his arms in it, before pulling it over his head.

“You’re invited. Every Sunday.” He slipped into his sweatshirt, and his head popped through the neck hole with a furious grin on his face.

“You should come back,” Mandy said. “We need someone here to distract Justin more often. We almost beat him this time.”

“What?” Justin asked, incredulously.

“Oh, come on. You spent more time staring at Lance than you did chasing the Frisbee.” With a wink in Lance’s direction, she smiled innocently at Justin.

Lance really hoped he wasn’t blushing now. Justin was, though, very red. He didn’t attempt to deny her accusations, though.

On the way home, Lance and Justin walked through the ritzy neighborhood between Beacon St. and Commonwealth Avenue. It was where most of the BU professors lived, and the houses were gigantic, with rolling lawns and private parks.

“Thanks for inviting me,” Lance said. “I had a really good time.”

“You’re welcome, man, I’m glad you came. You kicked some serious ass out there.”

“What? I totally sucked.”

“No way. You just need more practice. If you come back, I’ll give you some pointers, if you want.”

“That’d be great. Have you been playing for long?”

“Since I started here,” he said. “We all kinda lived near each other as freshmen, and just started playing for the hell of it. Then, like, some people stopped, new ones started. It’s like, not serious at all, but awesome exercise.”

“I can’t believe you’re not on some team. Or like, track or something.”

Justin shrugged. “I never really got into sports all that much. Basketball, but the team here is really good, and I’m not that good. How about you? You play anything?”

“I played soccer when I was a kid, and volleyball for a while. Not, like, hard core though.”

“Yeah. I just like to play, I don’t like all of the politics and shit. That’s why Frisbee rocks, man. I mean, it’s Frisbee! It CAN’T be serious, dig?”

“Dig.” Lance grinned at Justin, who laughed lightly.

They’d gotten back to the train tracks, where Lance had to catch his ride back home.

“So, listen, are you doing anything on Thursday?” Justin asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Work, but I’ve got the night free. What’s up?”

“I’ve got tickets to that new space movie, sneak preview. Would you wanna go?”

“Sure. Yeah, what time?”

They agreed to meet for dinner beforehand and Justin waited with Lance until his train came, before starting the walk back to his room. He hadn’t had such a good time at Frisbee in a long time. Lance was really fun to hang out with, and willing to go and do stuff. Plus, he was smart, and really cute. Yup, Justin figured, he was falling pretty hard for this one.

**

Monday was full of classes and work, but around eight, he saw a familiar blonde swivel through the revolving door at the front of the store.

Grinning as Lance approached the counter, Justin leaned down on his elbows.

“So, I think I’m becoming a coffee addict,” Lance said, stopping a few feet from Justin. He had an orange shirt on today, and it looked really good on him. Really good. Justin licked his lips and grinned.

“Yeah? Well, then you’ve come to the right place. What can I get you?”

Dropping his bag on an empty table, Lance turned slowly, a mischievous look in his eye. “Can I get an order of coffee boy?”

Justin laughed out loud, then grabbed a cup to fill for Lance. “I’m afraid that they don’t serve that here. But if you wanna come by around, say, eleven? I can help you find it someplace else.” He set the coffee down, and held out his hand. “Three fifty-seven.”

Pouting, Lance dug for his wallet. “Can’t even get you to buy me a cup of coffee.”

“Nope. Not here. Cameras, man. They’re everywhere,” he said, the last part in a mock whisper.

“Damn the man.” Lance sipped at his coffee, then groaned. “Soooo gooood. I just have to say, for the record, I’m glad you work here and not in, like, a butcher shop.’

Wrinkling up his nose, Justin snorted in disgust. “That’s just gross, dude.”

“Mmm.” Falling into a moment of silence, Lance savored his beverage while Justin served a couple of Asian girls tiny cups of espresso.

“So, I didn’t think I’d see you until Thursday,” Justin said casually. Not that it wasn’t a great thing, to have Lance there to entertain him. He just wanted to make sure this wasn’t a weird stalker kind of thing. He’d seen some TV movie when he was laid up with bronchitis last summer where a girl met a guy in a deli and he stalked her for a few months. And he didn’t know why he was comparing his life to something that was on television for women, but.

“I know. I was on my way home, but my T stalled out at Kenmore and they’re rerouting everyone to buses, so I was right here. I saw you in the window, and figured I’d come say hi. I can’t stay long, I’ve got a ton of reading to get done.”

Good enough, Justin thought. No stalker here. “I’m glad. It gets pretty boring in here at night.”

Lance smiled, and they chatted a few more minutes before he had to leave. It was, Justin thought, sweet. Not sweet in the way flowers on an anniversary were, but sweet in the way your grandmother sent you five dollars just because. Lance struck him as the kind of boy his grandmother would approve, which made the whole thing seem even more appealing.

**

By Thursday, Justin was ready to get out. He’d won tickets to a sneak preview of some new sci-fi movie through a radio station call in contest. Lance was supposed to meet him at Boston Beer Works right by the theater at six, for dinner before the seven o’clock show.

Justin got back to his room at three, changed, and hit the gym. He worked out religiously, to the point where his friends teased him about being a gym rat. He didn’t do it because of any weight issues, or to keep in shape for a sport, but simply because he loved the burn in his muscles as he worked them as hard as he could. Justin was proud of his body, and if it meant hours lifting and running to keep it looking that way, he was willing to sacrifice them.

Racing back down Bay State Road two hours later, he stripped off his sweats and climbed into the shower, praying his curly hair would, for once, cooperate. It was nearly five thirty when he was finally dressed. Throwing a handful of gel into his hair, he scrunched it down the best he could, grabbed his keys, wallet, and the tickets, and made it out the door just in time.

Lance was already there when he arrived. From outside, Justin paused a moment to take in the sight of his date, waiting by the hostess station. Lance had on a button-down blue shirt with khakis, dressier than Justin had seen him before. The cut of the pants accented his perfect ass, and Justin licked his lips in anticipation before opening up the door and moving into the lobby.

Dinner was nice. The place wasn’t real busy, since it was too late in the year for the baseball crowd and to early in the week for the clubbing scene on Lansdowne Street. They had a table in the back, and split a couple of appetizers. Lance told Justin a little bit about Mississippi, and Justin smiled at the happy tone in Lance’s voice as he talked about his family and childhood.

“I’m really close to my mom and dad. We never had that whole teenage rebellion thing in my house, with my sister or me. We all just got along really well.”

“What made you decide to come up here, then?” Justin asked.

Lance shrugged and fiddled with the coaster under his beer. “It’s a good school. Not that I couldn’t have stayed closer to home, but. I wanted a change. I saw all of my friends, guys I’d known since high school, people I hung out with in college- they just weren’t going anywhere. They were all just talkin’ about how they were gonna move home, get jobs, get married, and I thought “Is this it, then?” I wanted to do something, see something, just have experiences, you know? So I applied to all of these schools all over the country, and BU gave me the best scholarship.”

“Are you glad you came? I mean, do you ever regret being so far away?”

“Nope. Well, I mean, sometimes I think I should have gone to New York or LA, for better business opportunities. And I wish I could be closer sometimes. Like, my sister’s having a baby, and I wish I could be there for that, but. I don’t regret coming here. It was the right thing for me, you know?”

Nodding in agreement, Justin said “Yeah, I know.”

“I miss my truck, though.” Lance grinned widely.

“Oh, Lord, don’t tell me. It’s a big pickup.”

“You know it. Big, grey Dodge Ram. It’s my baby.”

Justin smiled sympathetically. “Lance, I hate to break it to you, but gay men don’t drive pick up trucks.”

“Where I come from, everyone drives pickups. Especially if you’re a gay man. It makes you blend into the crowd.”

“At least tell me you didn’t have a Dixie flag on the back.”

“I wouldn’t put any sticker on my truck. Do you know what those do to the finish?” Lance mocked horror. Or at least, Justin thought he was kidding.

Unfortunately, he glanced at his watch. “We gotta go, if we’re gonna make the movie.” It was too bad. He bet that Lance had lots of stories about his old truck. He made a mental note to bring it up again later.

**

The movie was pretty good, better than Justin expected considering who was in it. The tiny theater was only about half full, and once the opening credits roll, Justin settled down with his knees propped up on the seat in front of him. He rested his hands on his legs, occasionally drumming out a beat to the background music. Sometime between the first big revelation and the point of heightened panic, Lance reached up and rested his hand on Justin’s, not holding, just resting there. Justin turned his head and smiled at Lance, then flipped his hand over so they could link their fingers together. Sweet, he thought again, but there was a warm current running through his body from where he was touching Lance that maked him think of things that were far from sweet but just as delicious.

When the movie let out, they poured out onto the street with the rest of the crowd. Walking shoulder to shoulder back down towards Kenmore Square and BU, Justin smiled up at the lights of the giant Citgo sign.

“The greatest thing is, you can always find your way home just by following that thing. Even if you’re totally drunk, just walk towards the Citgo sign and you’ll be OK.”

Lance laughed a little, and bumped his arm against Justin’s. It was as if he was trying to hold hands, but didn’t quite dare on the busy street.

Sighing, Justin stopped at the corner. “I don’t really wanna go home yet. Do you want to walk?”

“Yeah.” Lance smiled at Justin, then glances around the busy intersection. “Which way?”

They ended up strolling down the mall in the center of Commonwealth Avenue. The long stretch of park is punctuated by cross streets, but pretty deserted. The autumn leaves crunched underneath their feet as they strolled through the arbor of shadows.

“Wouldn’t you love to live here?” Lance asked, studying the massive townhouses. “I mean, these places have to go for hundreds of thousands of dollars.”

“Prime real estate. I don’t know, though. I think I’d like to have a house outside the city, someplace with land, ya know?”

“Yeah,” Lance agreed. “Probably. If I could, though, I’d want an apartment too, for when I want the city.”

“That’d work,” Justin says. “It’s the best of both worlds, then.”

“Do you ever miss Memphis?” Lance asked curiously, when they reached a street corner.

“Sometimes. I did at first, a lot. But now, I’ve been here for four years, and this feels more like home, ya know? Plus, I moved around a lot as a kid, so I only really lived in Memphis for about four years before coming here, at least that I can remember. What about you, do you miss Mississippi?”

“No,” Lance said, as they darted across the street, disregarding the Do Not Walk sign. “I don’t, at all, which is so weird. It’s my first time living more than 20 miles from home, and I don’t miss it.”

“Maybe that’s a sign that you’re in the right place,” Justin said. Lance nodded and seemed to consider the idea.

Stopping once they crossed into the Public Garden, Justin spied his favorite tree, and old oak with tons of gnarled and twisted branches. Most of the leaves still clung on, making it a beacon of red and orange in the darkness.

“This is one of my favorite spots,” he told Lance. “I would rollerblade down here during the summer, then take them off and climb the tree.”

Lance rested a hand on the trunk and felt the sturdy bark beneath his hand. The old oak tree stood out among the weeping willows, a beacon of strength and might. He could see its appeal.

“We should probably turn back,” Justin said. The moon was out, but they couldn’t see the stars past the city lights.

Not replying, Lance turned on the path and started to walk. He paused, and looked back at Justin over his shoulder. “You sure you wanna go?” he asked. Justin was still looking up at the tree.

“Yeah.” Jogging a bit to catch up, Justin fell into step beside Lance as they left the Garden and waited to cross Arlington Street.

“Do you want to catch the T here?” he asked, knowing Lance had a long ride back out to Allston.

“Nah.” Lance kept his tone light. “I’ll get it by your place, so I don’t have to pay.”

Justin almost commented that Lance had a T pass, he didn’t pay per ride, until it dawned on him that Lance was offering to walk him home. Grinning, Justin ducked his head and felt his cheeks rising in a flush. He likes me, he thought. He really likes me.

**

The guy who lived upstairs from Justin had a serious obsession with Dave Matthews Band. To the point where, at three am, Justin rolled out of bed and finally gave up on sleep. Sitting up, Justin looked around his shadowed room and yawned. The headlights from cars on Storrow Drive waved across his room, casting moving shadows on the walls. His dorm room was actually pretty big. He had a real closet, not one of those standing armoires that so many people had, and a blocked up fire place next to his bed. The mantle gave the room a dignified look absent in most dorms. The ceilings were high, and the bay windows at the back of the room rose almost the full length of the wall.

Rolling out of bed, Justin sat down in his shaky wooden desk chair to see if anyone else was awake to entertain him.

FuManSkeeto: Dude! What’re you doin’ up this late?  
Justified: Neighbors from hell, man. Thank God this is the last year in the dorm  
FuManSkeeto: I hear ya.  
FuManSkeeto: Hey, how’s the boy?  
Justified: Boy is good. Very good. ;)  
FuManSkeeto: What’s his name again?  
Justified: Lance. Lance Bass.  
FuManSkeeto: Nice gay name.  
Justified: Hey!  
FuManSkeeto: I’m quoting Homer here.  
Justified: Whateva. He’s hot, yo.  
FuManSkeeto: So, what’s so great about him?  
Justified: He’s really hot, blonde tips, green eyes, built nice  
FuManSkeeto: Funny, you usually go for brunettes  
Justified: fuck off. He’s like, serious. He’s wicked smart.  
FuManSkeeto: I’d hope so  
Justified: And he loves music. And he’s from the south, like me. He listens, like, you can tell he’s really thinking about what you’re saying.  
FuManSkeeto: wow  
Justified: what?  
FuManSkeeto: You just haven’t sounded this serious before  
Justified: I know, It’s different  
FuManSkeeto: Well, good luck with it man  
Justified: Thanks  
FuManSkeeto: He’s a grad student, right?  
Justified: Yeah  
FuManSkeeto: So, is he gonna be around next year, or what?  
Justified: I dunno. He’s from Mississippi, and I think this is his first year up here, cause he’s still got his accent and shit  
FuManSkeeto: What’s he studying?  
Justified: Management, he wants to be an artist rep  
FuManSkeeto: So, you guys can live happily every after and start some music business together  
Justified: Um, no  
FuManSkeeto: kidding  
FuManSkeeto::-P  
Justified: At least he’s out  
FuManSkeeto: A vast improvement over the last one.  
Justified: True.  
FuManSkeeto: Very true. Keep him around, will ya?  
Justified: I think so. He’s special.  
FuManSkeeto: That rocks, due.  
Justified: Yup. Hey, I gotta crash, man. It suddenly got quiet, and if I don’t sleep now, I may never get the chance, and the family’s flying in tomorrow morning.  
FuManSkeeto: Tell them I say hello  
Justified: I will. Night  
FuManSkeeto: Peace out.

**

Justin met his parents at the airport baggage claim on Saturday morning. His brothers came running up when the saw him, and jabbered on and on until his step mom distracted them with finding their bags on the carousel. In the moment they stepped away, Justin’s dad gave him a big hug.

“You look good son,” he said, patting Justin on the back. “How’s life treating you?”

“Good,” Justin replied. “Busy.”

“Mm, I bet.” Watching as his wife and sons waited for their bags, Randy eyed his oldest son. “You’re mom couldn’t make it?”

“She could if she wanted to,” Justin said bitterly. His dad squeezed his shoulder in comfort. “It’s OK. It means I get to spend more time with you and the terrors.”

Knowing it very much wasn’t OK, Randy forced himself to smile. “They brought their roller blades,” he said, and laughed as Justin’s eyes lit up with joy.

Later on, he took them all down to the Esplanade. Long past the season of summer concerts, the Hatch Shell was instead full of bike riders, joggers, and rollerbladers using up every last bit of warm weather before the winter snows pushed them indoors.

Justin was teaching Stephen, his youngest brother, to spin, when he spotted someone running down by the river. Stumbling out of a turn, he rolled over to the bridge and waited for Lance to run by.

Letting out a low whistle, he caught Lance’s attention and smiled as he shifted direction towards Justin and his family.

“Hey,” he said, slightly winded.

“Hey there.” As Justin’s brother rolled up beside him, he wrapped an arm around the boy’s shoulders. “Meet Jonathan, my brother.”

“Hi, Jonathan,” Lance said, and cordially shook the boy’s hand as if he were meeting a friend of Justin’s, not his kid brother. “Nice to meet you, I’m Lance.”

“Hi.” Slightly cowering into his brother, Jonathan clung tight.

“My family’s in town for the weekend,” Justin explained, waving his dad over. Introductions were made all around, but after a moment or two or awkward conversations, Lance jogged off leaving the Timberlake clan to their picnic and roller blades. Settling down to lunch, Justin laid back on the blanket while his brothers and father went off in search of a pretzel cart.

“So, Lance, he’s a new friend of yours?” Justin squinted at his step mom.

“Yup. We met at a party at Chris’s friend’s a few weeks ago.” And at Starbucks, but he didn’t think that picking up guys at work was a good thing to tell your parents.

“Is he…” she asked, letting her voice trail off.

“Gay? Yeah. And yes, we went out, and no, I don’t know if it’s serious,” Justin replied tersely.

“Ok.” She paused, not sure if she’d offended Justin with the comments. “He’s pretty cute,” she added, and watched Justin chuckle.

“Oh yeah,” he sighed, dreamily, and they both laughed, the tension broken.

**

It was almost another week before Justin saw Lance again, due to conflicting schedules. It sucked, only being together on the weekends, although it gave Justin space to try and figure out exactly what is going on with this thing. Neither of them had made any promises or even inquiries about a relationship. Justin didn’t know quite where it was going, but so far it had all been very easy and decidedly drama-free. For that, he was glad, because life was crazy enough with school, work, and his looming internship and graduation that he didn’t need to add boyfriend troubles into the mix.

When they did get together next, it was for dinner Thursday night in the Union, about as unromantic as you can get. Always overcrowded, they squeezed into a table right in the middle of the floor. Justin had run over straight from the gym, his hair still damp from a shower. Lance had gone from work to class, and was wearing a collared shirt and tie. They were a complete mismatch.

Despite the fact that he had to be at work again early the next day, Lance agreed to walk back to Justin’s place for a while. They strolled down Bay State Road, listening to the sounds of the city from the block behind them.

“It’s so hard to believe that we’re so close to everything. This street is so hidden, you’d never even know it was here.” Lance commented, looking at the rows of Brownstones. One of the things that Justin liked about Lance was that he constantly reminded Justin about how lucky he was to be at BU. After four years, he’d become pretty jaded to it all, but Lance let him see things in a fresh light again.

Lance reached over and took one of Justin’s swinging hands in his own. Justin almost pulled it back- he’d never held hands with a guy while walking down the street. Sitting in a restaurant or movie, sure, but never so… open. Part of it was the fact that his ex wasn’t out. It felt good, though, to hold Lance’s hand. His grip was strong.

Trying to sound nonchalant, Justin replied “Yeah. I figure it’s good to live here now, cause when I graduate I’m not gonna be able to afford it.”

“You should come see my place sometime,” Lance said absently.

“OK, sure,” Justin asked, smiling at the invitation.

“I’ll just have to find time to wash a pile of dishes first.”

Justin laughed a little, looking down at the cracks and tree roots in the sidewalk. “You don’t have to clean for me.”

“Oh, Lord, I do. My mama would fly up from Mississippi and kill me herself if she knew I had company in a dirty apartment.”

Justin chuckled a little louder at that.

“Your family, they seemed nice.”

“They are.” Stopping in front of his building, Justin pulled his lanyard key chain out of his gym bag. “We had fun.”

“That was your dad and step mom, right?”

“Yup. She’s really cool. Not many women would have welcomed a wannabe bad-ass teenager into their new home, but she did.”

Lance raised an eyebrow. “You were a bad-ass, huh? What happened?”

“What makes you think I’m still not?” Justin said, trying to sound menacing. It failed, and when Lance kept that cocked eyebrow stare, Justin fell into an easy laughter as he walked up the stairs.

“My dad and stepmom happened. They helped me out when I was having problems with my mom.”

“You mentioned that she didn’t want you in school.”

Justin sighed, opening the door to his room and turning on the light.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” Lance said. “I didn’t mean to, like, pry, or anything.”

“It’s OK. I just don’t tell many people this stuff. But I mean, we’re kinda dating, right, so you should know.” Sitting down on the inflatable chair in the corner, Justin folded his hands around his knees. “My parents split up when I was three, and it was really hard, cause I didn’t get to see my dad much at all. Mom and I didn’t have much money, we had to live with my grandmother. Anyway, mom realized that I was a pretty good singer, so she got me into lessons and I started to do commercials and stuff. The money helped, and I was having fun. I didn’t go to school much, I had tutors. I only had one real friend, Trace, whose mom was my mom’s best friend.” Justin paused, then looked up at Lance, who was watching him patiently. “Did you ever hear of that show, the Mickey Mouse Club?”

“The Disney thing?”

“Yeah. I was on the remake of that in the early 90s. Only for the last couple of seasons, but. It was cool, I met a lot of people, and got to sing and dance. I had a group of friends my own age, and was in the same bed every morning when I woke up. After years of traveling for auditions and jobs, I loved it. So, the show’s cancelled, and I told my mom I wanted to go home. Back to Memphis, back to school. She was really pissed, wanted me to go back into auditions and voice stuff. I refused, and we moved home, but it was tough. I was getting into trouble, not happy cause she was still on my case. My dad had just remarried, and he and my stepmom offered to let me come and live with them. So I did. Mom was really pissed, it almost had to go to court. So, now she and I aren’t really on the best of terms, although it’s better now than it was a few years ago.” Justin swallowed deeply, and would not cry. He kept his face stony as he told the tale, to keep his emotions from overwhelming him.

“Wow. I’m sorry man, I had no idea.” Lance eased off the bed, onto the floor, curling one leg under the other.

“’s OK. I think she’ll come around some day. I hope so, God.” Giving in to the emotion, Justin buried his head in his knees.

Lance, not really knowing what to do, reached around and gave Justin a hug, pulling him tightly into the embrace. He could feel tears seep though his shirt’s shoulder, and whispered words of comfort into Justin’s ear.

**

SirLancelot: Hey there  
Justified: Hey sexy  
SirLancelot: *blush*  
Justified: What’s up  
SirLancelot: Just makin sure you’re OK this morning  
Justified: Yeah, sorry I lost it last night  
SirLancelot: It’s OK, man really  
Justified: Made me feel like a dork  
SirLancelot: seriously, it’s fine. If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll cry on your shoulder some time  
Justified: oh yeah? What’s a gorgeous man like you got to cry about?  
SirLancelot: just be nearby next time my sister calls and says she borrowed my truck  
Justified: ouch. Not good?  
SirLancelot: Last time I was lucky- only a dented fender  
Justified: Yikes  
SirLancelot: yeah. So, what’re you doing this weekend? I forgot to ask you last night  
Justified: Ugh, I’ve got plans  
SirLancelot: oh, ok  
Justified: working tomorrow, then I promised Britney I’d take her to her sorority ball  
SirLancelot: oh  
Justified: her boyfriends in the marines, so he can’t be here  
SirLancelot: ok  
Justified: are you cool about this? Cause I promised her before we met, so  
SirLancelot: no, it’s fine. Totally cool  
Justified: Good.  
SirLancelot: will you be around Sun?  
Justified: should be  
SirLancelot: maybe we can do something then  
Justified: I’d really like that  
SirLancelot: it sucks that I’m taking night classes- I never see you  
Justified: I know, I wish we could have lunch together or something  
SirLancelot: want me to swing by work tomorrow to visit  
Justified: definitely. J

**

Justin had rented a tux for the occasion, and was supposed to pick Britney up early Saturday evening for dinner beforehand. Lance ended up being really cool about it, and even dropped off the corsage when Justin got tied up at work and couldn’t go pick it up.

“Thanks, man, you’re a lifesaver.” Hooking a finger into the loop of Lance’s jeans, Justin pulled him close. “I didn’t expect you to be so cool about this.

Lance rested his hands against the smooth muscle inside Justin’s open shirt. “It’s OK. But I think, sometime soon, we do need to talk.”

Narrowing his eyes, Justin asked “Good talk or bad talk?”

“Good talk,” Lance laughed, and pushed Justin away. “Finish getting dressed or you’re going to be late.”

Although Justin loved Britney like his own sister, he wished that she’d becoming violently ill right then. Anything so he wouldn’t have to leave Lance. It didn’t happen though, and Lance headed off to his apartment to get some studying done as Justin climbed into a cab a half hour later.

**

Morning came with a rush of sunlight through the windows, slicing through Justin’s eyelids like a million razor blades. He hadn’t closed the shades last night, and now was paying for it. Slowly, the reason for the pain came back to him: open bar. Damn, his head hurt. It was as if a million little jackhammers were chipping away pieces of his brain.

Slowly rolling over, he lost his balance and landed on the floor with a thump. Groaning as the room spun and from the pain of a highlighter wedged in his back, Justin raised himself to his hands and knees, groping his way to the microfridge, and the bottle of Tylenol sitting on top of it.

Downing three with big gulps of water, he rolled back into bed. Too pained to pull down the shades, he buried his head under the blanket and fell back asleep.

Later on, he felt a little more human, and ventured out on a run. It was getting cold enough to wear a sweatshirt now, so he grabbed his red hooded one. His head still hurt a little, but the long run helped his body to shed some of the aches and pains of overindulgence. The ball had been fun, overall. Too many girls for his taste, but most of Britney’s friends were nice enough, and none of the guys at their table gave him the homophobic routine he’d prepped himself up for. Sometimes, it seemed, the world was a lot nicer than he imagined.

He stopped at the union on the way home and grabbed a plate of Cranberry Farms turkey dinner to go, returning to his dorm room to eat. He was lucky and didn’t run into anyone he knew, so he made it home quickly and the food was still hot. Justin didn’t mind eating alone in the Union, but he was all sweaty and grimy and didn’t want to have to make conversation with anyone who might wander into the union.

After lunch, he sat down at the computer to check his long-neglected email and see if anyone was around. Turning off the sound, he opened Instant Messenger to find a slew of away messages. He was halfway through replying to his school emails when a message popped up on his screen.

SirLancelot: Hey there  
Justified: Hey sexy  
SirLancelot: *blush*  
Justified: Did you have fun with Joey last night?  
SirLancelot: eh. His girlfriend was there  
Justified: Sorry, dude  
SirLancelot: Yeah, well. How was the ball?  
Justified: Good. Open bar  
SirLancelot: Nice  
Justified: Well, last night it was. Now it’s a headache  
SirLancelot: Ouch. Guess I won’t be seeing you today  
Justified: No, come over  
SirLancelot: You sure?  
Justified: Yeah, come over. I wanna see you  
SirLancelot: OK. Give me like an hour, OK?  
Justified: Sure. C ya then  
SirLancelot: k. bye

**

Justin was listening to Coldplay when Lance arrived. The mellow tones were about all that his head could handle, considering the fact that someone who lived across the hall was listening to Marky Mark. There would be death later, he was sure of this fact, but was hoping the blood would end up on someone else’s hands. For now, he closed the door and turned on his own music.

Lance somehow got up the front door and knocked directly on Justin’s dorm room door. He sighed, and jotted a memo on the whiteboard behind his door to take up security at the next hall meeting.

When he opened the door, Lance stood there grinning. He was casual again today, reminding Justin of the first time he’d seen Lance in the coffee shop. Justin, fresh from the shower, had pulled on a pair of low riding, worn in jeans, and a red T-shirt faded to nearly pink. Glad that Lance didn’t entertain any notions of going out, he held the door wide to allow Lance in.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” he said lightly, and shut the door behind them. The sun was down outside already, so he had the room lit by a bunch of small lamps. Justin hated the harsh overhead lighting.

Lance sat in Justin’s desk chair. Not wanting to push anything, Justin took a seat on the bed, curling one foot under his thigh.

“You look better than I imagined,” Lance said cautiously.

“You didn’t see me this morning,” Justin replied with a lopsided grin. “I was death warmed over.”

“Must have been some party,” Lance joked, looking around Justin’s room.

“Not really. Just lots of girls and no one I wanted to dance with.”

“You dance?” Lance sounded surprised.

Nodding, Justin answered “Constantly. I love it. But, you know. Not so much with girls.”

Lance rocked back onto two legs of the chair. “Someday, you’ll have to teach me how.”

“OK.” Leaning back on the bed, Justin admired Lance’s strong thighs, watching him balance on the chair. Oh yeah, he’d be able to teach Lance to dance.

After a moment’s pause, Justin started to say “what kind of music…” at the same time Lance said “I wanted to talk to you about…”

Laughing, albeit a little nervously, Justin shook his head. “Go head, man.”

“You sure?” Lance asked, then continued with Justin’s nod. “I really suck at starting this kind of thing, but I guess I just needed to ask you exactly what we’re doing here. I mean.”

“Me and you,” Justin finished.

“yeah.”

Letting out a long, slow breath, Justin said “Well, we’re dating, right?” At Lance’s nod, he continued. “So I suppose the question is, are we dating anyone else?”

“A guy I met at the gym asked me out.” Lance didn’t look at Justin when he said it, but instead seemed fascinated by the carpet weave.

The admission hurt Justin more than he expected, though he should have anticipated it. Lance was hot, if he wasn’t him, he’d ask Lance out. Wait, that didn’t make sense. His head was starting to hurt again. The only thing he could figure to ask was “Did you say yes?”

Lance shook his head, and looked up. “I told him I was seeing someone, but I guess. I mean, I want to make sure that’s true.”

“It is,” Justin said almost too quickly, then smiled widely when Lance looked up. “I mean, I want it to be true.”

“So do I,” Lance said. “So, we’re, what? Boyfriends?”

“Exclusive? I mean, I know it’s only been a few weeks, but I like you, and I don’t wanna mess this up.” That seemed to be coming out of his mouth a lot lately.

“Yeah, me neither. I’m not going to be dating anyone else. I just wanted to tell you that.” Taking a risk, Lance slid out of the chair and moved smoothly onto the bed by Justin’s feet.

Reaching down to rub Lance’s ankle, Justin said “Sounds good to me.”

Lance took Justin’s hand in his, and forced his newly-named boyfriend to look him in the eye. “There’s one other thing. And this is pretty presumptuous, considering we haven’t even gotten there yet, but. I just wanted to tell you that I’m clean, I get tested pretty regularly, and I’m good, so I don’t want you to worry or anything.”

“Me too,” Justin said. “All clean. And always safe, so.”

“Good.” That seemed like an appropriate moment to seal the discussion with a kiss, which Lance did.

Justin opened his mouth just before their lips touched, and welcomed Lance inside. He relished the feeling of two warm tongues sliding together, of the slickness that wet the skin around his lips, of the soft breath he felt on his cheek. Kissing Lance was amazing, because he kept a thin layer of stubble on his face most days, adding an extra element of sensation as his lips laid soft kisses along Lance’s jaw.

Pulling back for a breath, Justin slowly opened his eyes and smiled. Lance had a dazed look on his face, but it clearled easily when he met Justin’s gaze. “We’re not gonna rush right?” Lance’s voice was low and quiet, but had a sense of seriousness to it.

“No. Like I said, I don’t wanna mess this up.” Sliding a little bit further away, Justin withdrew his hands from Lance’s thighs, still feeling the tingling beneath his palms. “I should probably tell you that you’re the first guy I’ve ever dated seriously who’s been out.”

Frowning, Lance let Justin keep his distance as he explained.

“See, the last guy I went out with was Eric. And he was great, really, but he wasn’t out to anyone except, well, me. So we never went anywhere, and we could never hang out at his place, and we didn’t do anything except behind closed doors. I liked him, right, but. I just didn’t want to hide anymore, so. I ended things. That was two years ago, and I mean. I’ve dated since then but nothing big. So, this is kinda important to me.”

“Ok. I guess, I’m flattered, really, then. And I promise, I’ve been out of the closet for years, and I don’t plan on going back in.”

Justin smiled, more at ease to have gotten that out in the open.

“How about a little more of this,” Lance said, leaning forward to kiss Justin again, “and then we do something else, OK?”

“OK,” Justin said, and pushed Lance down on the bed, laughing until the moment their mouths touched again.

**

The thing about dating someone in college was that neither of them really had the money to go out, so a lot of the times they were just sitting around at Justin’s room hanging out. He’d used a guest meal for Lance so they could eat together in the dining hall one early November evening, and afterwards they’d darted through the rain each carrying one piece of fruit, per the dining hall limits on takeout.

Nibbling on his apple, Justin sat crosswise on his bed, with Lance’s legs over his lap. They were supposedly watching Dawson’s Creek, which Lance had a secret fetish for, and Justin indulged because he liked the way Lance got all excited when Joey and Dawson almost kissed. It happened at least once an episode.

“You’ve got really pretty eyes,” he commented during a commercial break, and Lance turned to him with a whimsical smile.

“Thanks,” he said.

“No, seriously, they’re really different. Totally unique, like you.”

“Thanks,” Lance said again. “You’ve got really pretty hair.”

Justin reached a hand up and ruffled his curls until they bounced wildly, making Lance laugh.

“They’re pretty, and soft, and…” Lance leaned forward to bury his nose in Justin’s head. “They smell like coffee.”

“Eew,” Justin said. “You’re supposed to say they smell like clean rain shampoo or something.”

Lance smiled, and placed a light kiss on Justin’s lips. “I like the smell of coffee.”

Then the show came back on, and his attention turned to the TV once more.

**

A couple of weeks later, Justin waited for the T and thought that things were going really well. He hadn’t had much time lately to stop and take stock of his life lately, but this afternoon he finally had a free moment and was spending it going over to Newbury Comics to pick up some new CDs. His last class ended early, and he stood at the BU West T Stop, shivering. Winter had arrived with the first week of November, and Commonwealth Avenue had turned into a wind tunnel, blasting cold gales down the street. The T tracks ran down the middle of the street, and Justin jumped up and down a little, hoping one would come soon, before hypothermia set in.

To keep his mind off of the biting cold, he thought about Lance instead. Lance, who’d cooked him dinner last weekend, which was the first time anyone had done that for him. They’d even shared a bottle of wine, something Lance knew a lot about thanks to one of his coworkers, and Justin had felt incredibly mature and dignified throughout the night. Afterwards, they’d huddled in Lance’s room watching a movie on his tiny TV, not really paying attention to the video. Instead, they’d talked quietly, all wrapped up in each other, about everything- how they came out to their families, favorite classes in school, most embarrassing moments, their friends. They’d fallen asleep there together. Justin had used Lance’s shampoo the next morning, and the faint kiwi smell had kept him slightly aroused for the rest of the day.

Tonight, Lance was supposed to be meeting him back at his place after work, so that they could go to some free concert in the Tsai Center. He had at least four hours before they were supposed to meet, and a hall meeting in between.

The trip into town turned out to be a great investment, when he found all of what he was looking for, plus the new Elvis CD compilation on sale. Justin loved Elvis. He immediately popped it into his player, and spent the next hour singing along to the King while pretending to study his Baroque Music text.

When Lance arrived that night, Justin was sitting in the common room just off the building’s foyer. There were a few other people there with him, residents who hung out after the meeting. One of them had been passing through the hall when Lance approached, and let him in.

“Hey, baby,” Justin said, and lifted an arm so Lance could slide in beside him. “Help us settle this… Mach 3 is totally better than electric, right?”

“Sure,” Lance said, and Justin gave him a squeeze.

“Y’all heard it from the source. And he’s a grad student, so he’s a lot smarter than all your sorry freshman asses.” The other kids in the room laughed, and continued the conversation. Justin smiled at Lance. It was so great to have someone who he could be with who was willing to sit next to him in a room full of people. Someone who wasn’t ashamed of their relationship, or felt that it should only exist in private. He gave Lance a peck on the cheek, then stood and hauled Lance to his feet.

“All right, guys, I’m off. Behave while I’m gone, or I’ll write you all up for heinously awful crimes.”

They snickered at his threat, knowing it was completely empty, and waved goodbye as Lance and Justin walked out the door.

“Your residents seem nice,” Lance said.

“They are. A couple years ago I was worried that I might get someone who wasn’t happy with having a gay RA, but would you believe I’ve never had a problem?”

“Sometimes the world’s just more perfect than we think,” Lance said, slipping his arm around Justin’s waist as they walked.

Justin remembered thinking the same thing a few weeks earlier, and leaned into Lance’s embrace, smiling.

**

SoccerJon94: WHEN ARE YOU COMING HOME  
Autoresponse from Justified: Hey, I’m out with the boy. Leave me one.  
SoccerJon94: YOU’RE ALWAYS OUT WITH HIM  
SoccerJon94: YOU’LL BE HERE FOR CHRISTMAS, RIGHT?  
SoccerJon94: MOM AND DAD SAID IF I’M GOOD I MIGHT GET PS2  
SoccerJon94: YOU CAN PLAY IT WITH ME  
SoccerJon94: THIS WAS A LOT MORE FUN WHEN YOU TALKED BACK

**

The show ended early, and they decided to walk instead of going home. Turning down Comm Ave again, they stayed in the shadows and held hands in between cross roads. When they got to the Public Gardens, they kept going into the Common.

“C’mere,” Justin said, and hauled himself up into a tree.

“What?” Lance asked, in disbelief, as he stared up at Justin, sitting on a branch a few feet above.

“Come up here. It’s cool.”

“Justin, I am not climbing a tree in the middle of Boston Common.”

Justin rolled his eyes and swung his feet. “Just come on. It’s easy.”

“No.”

“Lance.” Justin stared down and waited for Lance to look up. “Would you just trust me?”

“Fine.” Mumbling under his breath about ruined pants and broken bones, Lance hauled himself up after Justin. As soon as he got onto the lowest branch, Justin scampered up further. Following, Lance hefted himself up a few more feet until they were both sitting on sturdy branches against the trunk of the tree, completely hidden from view by the fall foliage.

“See, that wasn’t so hard.” Justin grinned up at Lance, who was now one limb above where he sat. Leaning back into a V of branches, Justin took a moment to study Lance. His hair was mussed, his cheeks flushed from the cold and the exertion, and his shirt had come unbuttoned at the bottom. He looked delicious.

“No, but it’s not exactly what I was expecting to do tonight.”

“See, you gotta learn to be spontaneous. It makes life so much more interesting.”

“What makes you think I’m not spontaneous?” Lance asked.

“I dunno. You’re the kind of guy who likes to plan stuff out, always know what’s gonna happen, that kind of thing.” Looking up at Lance in the moonlight, Justin smiled. “Not that that’s a bad thing.”

“No, it’s not.” Lance said. “But say you’re right. What would a spontaneous person do, right now?” Leaning closer, Lance’s eyes glimmered like stars as he awaited Justin’s answer.

“Well,” Justin began, sitting up straight. “I think a spontaneous person would take advantage of the fact that we’re out of sight from the rest of the world right now.”

“Oh yeah?” Lance asked, moving even closer, so that he could feel Justin’s breath on his cheek.

“Yeah.” And then they were kissing. Justin steadied himself by holding onto a tree limb as he leaned forward to capture Lance’s mouth with his own. Lance was an incredible kisser, all slow and torturous. He’d seize Justin’s lower lip between his teeth and tug, ever so lightly, until Justin parted his lips and allowed Lance to enter. Tongues met in a furious duel. Justin tentatively shifted his balance so that he could reach up one hand to stroke at Lance’s cheek, his neck. Compared to the rough bark of the tree, Lance’s skin was silky smooth under his palm. And warm, oh, the heat that was surging from Lance into him was enough to ward off the late autumn chill and make him feel like summer again.

Reaching lower, Justin dipped his hand into Lance’s collar, and felt the other man shiver at his touch. Feeling adventurous, Justin stroked up and down Lance’s back, sliding up under his shirttails and then down below Lance’s belt. When he felt Lance hitch a breath, and heard the low groan as it was exhaled, he leaned back a little and grinned up at Lance. The moonlight filtered through the leaves enough for him to see how flushed Lance’s face was.

Aroused beyond belief, Lance opened his eyes to see Justin grinning up at him hungrily.

“Hold on,” Justin said, and gently shifted so he was kneeling on one branch, leaning forward on another. He tugged Lance forward, until his legs draped over the branch Justin leaned on and he sat just beyond. Reaching forward, Justin took hold of Lance’s belt buckle.

Alarmed, Lance grabbed at Justin’s hand. “What’re you doing?” he hissed.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Coyly, Justin pressed lightly and watched the want flow over Lance’s face.

Groaning, Lance struggled between logic and pleasure, like the old angel and devil figures sitting on his shoulders. “You’re gonna get us both arrested for public indecency.”

“Not if you’re quiet,” Justin said, but Lance’s grip on his wrist had already subsided, so he took that as a go-ahead and resumed his task. Making quick work of the belt and zipper, he pulled Lance’s cock out into the night, and paused for a moment to admire it’s length and breadth before licking his palm and stroking up from the base.

Wrapping one arm around the trunk of the tree, Lance placed the other on Justin’s shoulder and encouraged more as Justin’s hand moved up and down on him. When Justin leaned forward and took him in his mouth, Lance had to bite his cheek to keep from crying out. He heard a siren wailing by as Justin worked him, and wanted to scream “Emergency! Over here! I think I’m going to die if this keeps up much longer!”

Between the thrill (and part fear) of getting caught and the overwhelming rush of being with Justin, it wasn’t long before Lance’s body tensed and Justin pulled back to catch his release. Wave after wave washed over him, and he clung to the tree, shaking the limbs as his hips surged, sending a shower of leaves cascading around them.

Sitting back, Justin wiped his mouth with the back of his hands, then neatly tucked Lance back in his pants, being careful of the extra-sensitive organ while zipping him up.

“Man,” Lance said, when he regained control of his speaking abilities, “I think that gives a whole new meaning to the word tree-hugger.”

Justin giggled, and adjusted himself. “I was afraid you were gonna fall out there, for a minute.”

“Me too.” Smiling down at Justin, Lance ran a hand through Justin’s curly hair, then down his cheek. “I think you’re a bad influence on me.”

Justin wiggled his eyebrows suggestively in response. He was still pretty hard, and it was taking most of his control not to shove his hand down his pants right there. Filing the thought away for later, he looked down at the ground below. “I guess we should get down.”

“Wait,” Lance said, stopping Justin before he could begin his descent. “You didn’t…”

“’s OK, dude. Next time.”

“No way,” Lance said. “I don’t want you going home and telling people I took and didn’t give back. C’mere.” And with that, he drew Justin back up until he was sitting back in that V of branches, and reached over.

Below them, the city buzzed with nighttime activity as shows in the theater district let out and college students made their way home from late classes. Above them, the moon made its leisurely journey across the star-sprinkled sky. In the tree in the park, Lance used his hands to draw Justin to the brink of ecstasy, then captured his mouth in a kiss when he finally exploded.

**

Chris was online when Justin got home, after waiting with Lance for the night owl bus. He would have invited Lance to stay, but Lance had to work at the ass crack of dawn in the morning, and it was Justin’s one day to sleep in.

FuManSkeeto: So, how’s the boy?  
Justified: Fine  
FuManSkeeto: Have you corrupted him yet?  
Justified: fuck off  
FuManSkeeto: Get over it, dude. It’s your rep.  
Justified: I suppose it’s my cross to bear  
Justified: And yes, I have  
FuManSkeeto: Dude, details.  
Justified: you’re such a girl  
FuManSkeeto: Fuck you, and spill  
Justified: We had a little fun in the Common tonight  
FuManSkeeto: you exhibitionist you  
Justified: In a tree  
FuManSkeeto: WHAT?  
Justified: Yup.  
FuManSkeeto: That takes serious talent. I bow down to you for that one, man.  
Justified: You should. I thought he was gonna fall out, for a second, but he held on.  
FuManSkeeto: So, is this, like fooling around, or serious?  
Justified: Serious. It’s weird, I wasn’t really looking for anyone right now, dig?  
FuManSkeeto: It always happens that way

**

Finals slammed into everyone at BU, and caused the library to overflow with last minute studiers. Justin was picking up every extra shift he could at the coffee shop as people begged off to cram, which meant he logged a lot of hours with his econ books spread before him behind the counter, juggling supply and demand with customer demand.

He was completely surprised when Lance showed up on Tuesday, and took a seat at the window. He didn’t say a word to Justin until nearly eleven, when Justin was closing up shop.

“It’s like, déjà vu all over again,” Justin commented as he lifted chairs onto tables.

“At least this time I don’t have to pretend to study while really trying to find ways to talk to the cute guy behind the counter.”

“Really?” Justin said, touched. “You did that?”

‘Yup. But you beat me with the first move.”

“So, this is like, where it all began.” As he flipped off the overhead lights, he pulled Lance closer for a kiss, illuminated by the display case lights from below. “Are you all done studying?”

“For tonight, anyway. I don’t think my brain could take anymore, and I’ve got an early exam.”

“Wanna stay with me?” Justin offered. “I can lend you some clothes for tomorrow, and it’d save you the half hour commute.”

“Seriously?” Lance asked, and Justin nodded. “Thanks.” As they left the shop, he winked at Justin. “How will I ever repay your kindness?” His accent was thickened to a point where it could compete with Scarlet O’Hara herself.

“Oh, I can think of a few ways.” Laughing, Justin practically raced the block back to his house and up to his room. “Though I should let you sleep, for your big test in the morning.”

“I’ll sleep later,” Lance said, and wrestled Justin to the bed.

**

The night before Justin left, they exchanged gifts. Because Lance was working, he only got a few days off for Christmas, while Justin got a full four weeks.

“This is great,” Justin said, staring at the signed Elvis record Lance had given to him. “Where did you find this?”

They were at Lance’s apartment because the dorms had closed the night before. Justin could technically have stayed as an RA, but there was no heat.

“A gentleman never reveals his sources,” he said with mock seriousness, until Jusitn’s cocked eyebrow made him sigh. “Ebay.”

“Well it rocks, yo. Open yours.” Justin waited patiently as Lance pulled at the ribbons on the package. Inside were a pair of buttery smooth leather gloves, with incredibly soft wool lining. Lance slipped his hands into them, noting the perfect fit.

“It’s cause you’re always so cold,” Justin explained. “They should keep you really warm.”

“They’re great.” Drawing a gloved hand to Justin’s cheek, Lance rubbed the smooth leather over his skin and lightly kissed his lips. “Thank you.”

“I’m gonna miss you,” Justin said. “It’s gonna suck being away for so long.”

“It’s not so long, and I’ll talk to you every day. Thank God for free nights and weekends.” Lance smiled, then drew the gloves off and laid them carefully on the dresser. While standing, he slipped off his shirt and returned to the bed beside Justin. Slowly, he slid his hands up under Justin’s shirt, feeling the warm skin and tight muscles. He grinned a little when Justin’s stomach quivered beneath his hand.

“Lance,” Justin breathed softly. That was all, just a name, and then kissing, lying back on the bed, legs intertwined to the point where Justin could no longer tell which foot was his.

Justin had no idea how long it was before Lance finally drew back, panting for breath. They were lying on their sides facing each other. His hand burned from the heat of Lance’s skin.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” Lance asked, biting his lip in anticipation.

“Oh, yeah,” Justin breathed. He’d never been surer of anything, he wanted Lance. NOW.

“Good.” Lance reached behind his back and fumbled with the nightstand draw, pulling it open and extracting a tube of lube and a condom. Using the moment of separation, he shucked off his socks, pants, and underwear. Beside him, Justin did the same, then crawled under the covers, suddenly a bit shy.

Lance joined him and rolled on top of Justin. Justin wanted to tell Lance how much he loved him, how much this meant to him, but his brain couldn’t function past the incredible stimulation of Lance’s body pressed against his. He kissed Lance deeply, letting his body say what his mind wanted to. Ready to get on with things, he tried to roll Lance under him, and reached up to take the condom out of Lance’s hand.

Lance didn’t go, and snaked his hands down into Justin’s hair. Confused, Justin tried again.

Lance broke away and stared down at him. “What’re you doing?”

“Um, trying to have sex with you?” Justin’s lips curled amusement.

“Uh-huh, so you, what? Want to be on your stomach?”

“No…” Justin said slowly, “Are you planning on riding me, or are you gonna lay down?”

Lance let out a short, harsh laugh. “Baby, I don’t bottom.”

“Me neither.” Pouting and stubborn, Justin stared up at Lance.

“Um. OK.” Lance sat back on his knees and pulled Justin until he slid up to lean against the head of the bed. “That’s a problem.”

“I’ve only done this a couple times before, and I was always on top.” Justin wanted the sheet back. He suddenly felt very nude.

“Me too. Well, more than a couple times, but always on top.”

“Soooo, what then?”

“Someone’s gotta give.” Lance twisted the covers around his knees.

“I guess.” The two stared at each other, both willing the other to back down. Finally, Justin sighed. “OK. I admit. I’ve always been a little curious. I guess we can try it this way. Just… have you ever been with a virgin before?”

Lance shook his head. “No. But I mean, I know how it’s done, right? I’ll make it feel good for you.”

“I guess.” Justin’s erection had wilted by this point, but it was starting to come back as he imagined what it would be like with Lance inside him. He’d been fingered a few times before, and it was always enjoyable. And the guys he had slept with had always really liked it, so. “Just use lots of lube.”

“I’ve got more in the bathroom if this runs out.” Settling over Justin, Lance began to kiss slowly down his body, paying attention to every freckle, every scar. When he got to Justin’s groin, he nuzzled the crinkled hair there with his nose before licking his way around Justin’s cock. This was familiar territory.

Down behind Jusitn’s balls he rubbed, then pressed a finger lightly against Justin’s opening. Reaching back for lube, he returned moments later to slowly slip inside.

Justin’s breath caught in his throat as Lance permeated his body, stimulating nerves both inside and out. “Oh, God, that’s good.”

“See, I told you it would be. I told you I’d make you feel good.” Lance slipped another finger inside, continuing all the while to lay soft kisses along the muscles of Justin’s stomach. He licked the line between torso and leg, causing Justin to buck up off of the bed.

When Justin was squirming on his fingers, Lance slid the condom on and positioned himself between Justin’s legs. “You wanna do it like this, or flip over?”

“I think flip over. It’s supposed to be easier, right?” Lance didn’t answer, but Justin rolled to his stomach and stuffed a pillow down under his hips. Lance rubbed soothing circles over his back. Justin looked up over his shoulder and tried to smile.

Nodding back, Lance moved forward. The look on his face was sheer concentration. Justin closed his eyes, so Lance wouldn’t see he was a little bit afraid.

Something wet nudged at his entrance, and he began to stretch. Not so bad, he thought. Then worse, then even worse, and then sparks of burning and pain were shooting across his ass.

“Ow! Fucker, stop. Stop.” Lance paused and looked up at Justin, eyes squeezed shut, sweat beading at his temples. “That really fucking hurts.”

“OK.” Struggling to hold himself as still as possible, Lance counted five Mississippis before asking Justin. “Want me to pull out?”

With a deep, shuddering breath, Justin whispered “Try again.” But as Lance pushed forward, Justin couldn’t relax enough to take him. With a sharp kick of his legs, he recoiled up on the bed, sending Lance off balance and tumbling to the floor.

Oh, shit, Justin thought, and scrambled to the edge of the bed to see Lance sitting there, the purple condom on his cock waving lewdly between his legs. “Are you OK? I’m so sorry.”

“It’s OK.” Pulling himself back up on the bed, Lance sat just out of reach from Justin. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”

Gathering Lance into his arms, Justin tugged the comforter back over them. “It’s OK. God,” he giggled. “I guess we’re gonna need a little more practice, huh?”

Nodding into his shoulder, Lance sighed. He reached down to roll off the condom, much more difficult while still hard than it was afterwards, he noted. Justin’s hand followed his, and continued to stroke up and down until Lance came, his cries absorbed by Justin’s kisses. Later, he kissed the tender flesh of Justin’s bottom and sucked him to an explosive orgasm. By silent agreement, they didn’t mention sex again. It was if they both knew they needed more time.

In the morning, they parted with lingering kisses in the doorway.

“Have a safe flight,” Lance said, running his hands down Justin’s arms. When they reached his hands, they folded their fingers together.

“I’ll call you when I get in,” Justin promised. “I’ll miss you.”

“Me too. See you in a month.”

Justin gave him one last kiss before picking up his bag and reluctantly walking out the door.

**

Justin’s Christmas break was long, and torturous. It was hot in Memphis, compared to the Artic chill that had settled in Boston. And he missed Lance. Trace was doing some semester abroad program so he wasn’t around to hang out with. And he missed Lance. His mom was being particularly bitchy to him. And he missed Lance.

Jon had indeed gotten a PS2 for Christmas, so Justin logged a lot of hours sitting on the floor with his brothers playing games. Some of the kids he knew had gone back to their summer jobs, but he’d been in Boston last summer and didn’t have anything to go back to. Plus, when school started again, he had a full time internship, so the idea of taking a few weeks off before starting a 40 hour a week jobs was rather appealing.

For Christmas, he’d gone to Christmas Eve services with his dad’s parents, then had a big dinner with the whole family. He reluctantly agreed to his mom’s parents’ request that he have Christmas Day dinner at their house, so after opening presents with his father and brothers, he drove across town to his grandmother’s house. Paul and his mom were there. He was startled when he saw them, to realize that they looked old. It was an odd feeling.

During dinner, he tried to make polite conversation. He told them about school, his jobs.

“So, anyway, the radio station where I’m interning does all kinds of off air stuff that I’m going to be helping with. I’m gonna be working Monday, and Tuesday from six am to four in the afternoon, answering phones and helping with the behind the scenes stuff.

I get Wednesdays off, and on Thursday, Friday, and Saturday I’m working from five in the afternoon till two a.m. with the traveling DJs who go out to the clubs and stuff. They did that special for me, cause I was into mixing and producing. They said it was a better experience for that field than stuffing envelopes, and I’ll get to make a lot of contacts in the clubs and stuff.”

His grandfather nodded along, though Justin knew he didn’t have a clue what Justin was talking about. His idea of radio was NPR. His grandmother smiled, but his mom remained bitter.

“You could have been on the radio by now if you’d just tried harder, instead of just working as their lackey.” Her voice was bitterly cold, and deflated Justin like a needle to a balloon.

When dessert was served, peach cobbler especially for him, he smiled warmly at his grandmother, who patted his hand.

“So, tell me Justin, do you have someone special up there in Boston?”

“I do, actually. His name’s Lance, and we’ve been going out for about two months.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful, honey. Does he live up there?”

“No,” he said between mouthfuls, “he’s from Mississippi.”

“That’s enough, Justin, nobody wants to hear about your sinful lifestyle over dinner. Honestly, Mom, I don’t know why you even brought this up.” His mother’s tone had turned from bitter to nasty.

Justin’s throat welled up, and he looked to his grandmother for guidance. She patted his hand again, and he forced down another spoonful of cobbler. It didn’t taste good anymore.

**

After New Year’s, Justin’s brothers went back to school and he was left to his own devices. He made a few more attempts to wear down his mother, and actually managed to have a pretty decent lunch with her, where no one mentioned school or music. How sad, he thought, to talk to someone so close to you as if they were a stranger.

Other than his few familial obligations, Justin was free to enjoy Memphis as a tourist, something he’d never done before. He went golfing for a few days, blessing the South for their mild winters. He took a tram car ride and strolled along the Mississippi River. He even spent a day at Graceland, where he bought Lance an Elvis keychain whose hips swiveled.

Talking to Lance on the phone was the one highlight of the trip. Without the physical distractions of being so close to him, they got to have much deeper conversations than they had in Boston. They spent nearly an hour one night talking about politics and the chances for a Democratic victory in the 2004 election. Another night, Justin told Lance stories from his days on the Mickey Mouse Club, and reluctantly got Lance to admit he had watched the show, but in the days before Justin appeared on it. It was nice, talking to Lance, but he missed seeing his face and holding him in his arms.

By the time the break was over, he was ready to get back. He got stuck waiting at the Memphis airport due to a snowstorm in Boston. By the time they reopened, his flight was four hours late. He arrived at a nearly-empty Logan airport, and trudged past the closed bookshops and coffee bars to baggage claim.

Sitting in one of the plastic chairs at the bottom of the stairs was Lance, eyes closed, fast asleep.

Rushing forward, backpack banging on his shoulders, he fell to his knees in front of Lance and pulled him into a fierce hug, jostling Lance awake. Lance’s body went tense with surprise and then melted into his arms. Justin buried his face in Lance’s collar, inhaling his boyfriend’s scent, relishing in the feeling of his arms around Justin’s shoulders.

“I missed you so fucking much,” Justin said, emotion heightened by his extreme exhaustion.

“Me too,” Lance replied, swaying side to side a bit. He could see over Justin’s shoulder the strange looks they were getting from other travelers. He didn’t care. “I’ve been waiting forever.”

“I didn’t think I’d ever get here,” Justin said, finally letting go to sit back on his toes. “You didn’t say you were coming,” he told Lance, twining their hands together.

Lance smiled down at him and stroked a curl off of his forehead with his free hand. “I wanted to surprise you. Welcome back.”

Welcome home, Justin thought. This is home.

**

Settling back into college was easier than ever before for Justin. He was welcomed back to the radio station by the employees who remembered him from last summer, and easily made friends with the other interns. He even went to a party at one of their houses, bringing Britney and Lance along for support.

Britney and Lance bonded instantly, that joy of finding another deep Southerner in the North. She liked his hair, he loved her dress, and it was all downhill from there, as far as Justin was concerned.

“Has he shown you his sneaker collection yet?” Britney asked as they walked. “He’s got, like, a million pairs.”

“I have exactly twelve pairs, thanks,” Justin said. Britney and Lance had fallen into step in front of him.

“Whatever,” she said with a toss of her hair. “It’s an obsession. Last year we had to skip class to go buy those new Jay Z ones. They were like, ridiculously expensive.”

“And the shoes you bought for the ball were such a bargain.” It was a lame comeback, he knew, but he was feeling outnumbered. “And Lance collects Dr. Seuss, so.”

“A girl’s allowed her indulgences, right Lance?” She winked at him and took his arm. “Dr. Seuss was always my favorite. Which book did you like best?”

“I’m a traditionalist. Cat in the Hat, all the way,” he replied in all seriousness.

Britney’s heart melted, and she smiled back at Justin with a wink. “Oh, this one’s a keeper, baby.”

“Maybe.” Justin shuffled along kicking the ice on the sidewalk.

“Aww, baby, if he won’t take you, I will,” she teased.

“I don’t think Chet would like that,” Justin said gruffly.

“Well, he’s certainly in a mood,” Britney mumbled into Lance’s ear, who nodded in reply. Stepping away from Britney, he slowed down so he was walking next to Justin.

“Hey, what gives?”

“Nothin’.”

“Yeah?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“OK. Lance gave Justin a smack on the cheek. Britney turned to stare at them.

“Honestly, y’all. I thought we were going to a party!”

With a hoot of laughter, Justin grabbed her around the waist and raced down the sidewalk, listening to her shrieks and hollers all the way to the door.

As it turned out, Britney knew a guy who was there, and she ended up off with him talking about some dance class they had together, leaving Lance and Justin in the throws of the crowd.

“So, like, are you and he together?” The host, Bret, asked as Justin pumped another beer from the keg.

“Yeah, got a problem with it?”

“No, just curious. He’s cute, I woulda gone after him if you weren’t together, but.” He gave Justin a sheepish smile, and Justin grinned back.

“Hands off, man,” he said with a laugh.

They took a cab home because it was snowing. Cuddled together in the backseat, Lance whispered in Justin’s ear “Come back to my place,” and nipped lightly on his earlobe. Justin shuddered, and murmured his consent. Lance’s hand was traveling dangerously high on his thigh, the smooth leather of his Christmas gloves rubbing against the denim of Justin’s jeans.

Lance over-tipped the cabbie and almost dropped his keys at the front door, his mind already on the bedroom. Sliding into the apartment and kicking the door shut behind him, Justin’s hands were already unbuttoning Lance’s coat and yanking off his scarf. Tripping over each other’s feet, the laughingly made their way back into the bedroom, where Justin fell back on the bed, bouncing as it gave beneath his weight.

Tugging off Justin’s sneakers, Lance toed off his own shoes and crawled up on top of Justin with a smile. “I’ve been waiting for over a month to get you back in my bed.”

“Well, I’m here now, so ravish me.” Justin stared up at Lance with such love.

Slowly, Lance kissed every inch of skin that he could find on Justin. He slipped each button from its hole and smoothly removed Justin’s shirt. He lifted Justin’s undershirt, skimming his fingers over the muscles of Justin’s stomach, worshiping every curve. When Justin was naked to the waist, Lance traced his hands over Justin’s chest, the light touch raising goosebumps on Justin’s arms and sending shivers of excitement to his groin. Reaching up, he tugged Lance’s sweater and T-shirt over his head in one movement, and stroked Lance back. His alabaster skin was shades whiter than Justin’s, and his dark brown nipples grew hard when Justin teased at them.

Moving lower, Lance swiftly unfastened Justin’s belt and fly, slipping a hand inside. What he found must have pleased him, because he set Justin a beautiful smile and set to work rubbing Justin’s hardened cock through his silky boxers. Justin stretched his arms back behind him on the bed and gave in to the sensation of Lance’s hand and the sensuous material. When he felt himself nearly a peak, he stopped Lance’s strokes and urged his boyfriend to finish undressing.

Rising off of the bed, Lance stood before Justin and gradually undid his belt. Making sure Justin’s eyes were on him, he pulled the belt out of the loops and slowly coiled it in his hands, then set it aside. Justin licked his lips as Lance popped open the button at the front of his pants and teasingly pulled down the zipper, little by little Lance took his time dropping his pants to the floor, then folding them in front of him, obscuring Justin’s view of the one thing he needed to see most. Lance turned, set the pants on his hamper. Grinning back over his shoulder at Justin, Lance slowly lowered his boxers to the floor, and pulled them off along with his socks. As he bent over, Justin groaned out loud as the skin stretched tight across Lance’s ass.

“You’re evil, you do realize that.” Justin’s voice was husky with arousal.

“Me?” Lance asked, with feigned innocence. He turned then, giving Justin a view of his impressive erection, standing upright and ready.

“You. Come here,” Justin said, and drew Lance down on top of him again. “You keep this up, and I won’t tell you my surprise.”

“Surprise?” Suddenly, Lance’s face was transformed from seductive to giddy, and Justin had to laugh at the rapid transition.

“Mmm-hmmm.” He fixed his mouth on a spot just below the pulse point on Lance’s neck, a spot he knew drove Lance wild when it was sucked upon just so. He teased Lance for a moment, drawing a gasp from his throat, before releasing Lance and continuing. “I’ve been practicing. For you.”

“What?” Lance asked, and he sounded out of breath.

“This,” Justin said, and held Lance back so he could scramble from underneath him and dig into the night table drawer. Pulling out the lube he knew was hidden there, he took Lance’s hand in his and quickly oiled his fingers. “Go ahead,” he said, lying back on the sheets and giving Lance a wide, toothy grin. “I’m ready,”

Lance’s eyes were cloudy with desire. They always changed from the really sharp crystal look to a hazy, more muted green when he was aroused, Justin had learned. Sitting there, Justin spread before him, Lance took a deep breath and went to work. When Justin accepted him without a hitch, he smiled and used every skill he had to drive Justin wild.

When he could take it no more, Justin stopped Lance’s hand and passed him a condom. Lance couldn’t get the wrapper open with his slippery fingers, so Justin tore the foil and rolled it down onto Lance, taking care to stroke a few extra times, biting his tongue in concentration.

When Lance entered Justin, there was only a touch of the pain he’d experienced the last time. Instead, he felt overwhelmingly full and whole. When Lance began to move, Justin rose with his thrusts, urging Lance deeper and deeper. His breath came in pants and it was too soon that he felt his balls tightening and spilling up into Lance’s hand and onto their stomachs. Lance shuddered a groan, and came deep within him.

Justin struggled to catch his breath, and waiting until Lance had pulled back out of him before saying “Wow.”

“Oh, yeah,” Lance agreed, as he stripped off the condom. “One sec.” He stuck his head out into the hallway, checked no one was there, and ran for a face cloth to wipe them off with. Once that was taken care of, Justin crawled beneath the covers and held them open so Lance could slide in behind him.

“Lance,” he said, tracing the lines of his jaw, feeling the days stubbly growth beneath his fingers. “I love you, Lance.”

Under his hand, Lance stilled. He bit his lip and could feel his heart pounding in his ears as the silence became deafening. It was a long moment before Lance replied with a hesitant “You do?”

“Yeah. I just thought you should know, and stuff.”

“Justin.” Lance rolled over so he could see Justin. “Are you sure? Cause you can’t take that back.”

“I am.” Justin placed a kiss on Lance’s nose. “And it’s OK if you can’t say it back.”

“I can. I’ve been wanting to tell you that I loved you for a long time now. It was just never the right moment. And then you were gone, and I didn’t want to say it over the phone, so.”

Hugging Lance close to his body, Justin sighed into his hair. “OK, OK. I getcha. Sometimes I feel like I hardly know you, like we’ve only just met, but there’s something there that just clicked. I love being with you, I feel so safe and comfortable with you, I dream about you. I love you.”

Lance smiled in his arms, and twisted their hands together. He knew they’d probably drift apart in sleep, but for now Justin was content to stay as connected to Lance as possible.

**

Tuesday nights at T’s Pub were a tradition among BU students. No cover, pitchers of beer, and Karyoke. Justin was planning on meeting Lance and a group of his coworkers there at nine, so they could get a table before the singing starts. When he got there, Lance was sitting at a table with two girls and a guy with kinda long hair.

Justin slid into the seat next to Lance, purposely not kissing him because he had no idea who these people were. Lance fixed that by pecking him on the cheek and running a hand through his hair.

“Hey Justin,” he said, “this is JC, my boss, and Amanda and Kristin. Guys, this is my boyfriend Justin.” Hands were shaken all around, and the waitress swung by to bring Justin a glass.

“You guys want more? You better order now before it gets busy.” The girls each ordered another drink, and JC asked for another pitcher.

“So, this place is supposed to be really great for karyoke,” JC said casually, leaning back into his chair.

“It is. Do you sing?”

Justin thought he saw JC blush a little. “I do, but I’m also a scout for the studio we work for. We don’t usually find much at these kinds of things, but you know. Always looking.”

Justin nodded. “It starts around ten, and you gotta sign up for songs right away, cause the list gets wicked long wicked fast.”

“Are you gonna sing?” Lance asked, turning to Justin.

“Yup. Always, it’s a tradition. And you’re gonna duet with me.” He said, laughing at the look of shock on Lance’s face. “Nope, no option. And I know just the song.”

“What?” Lance asked, suspicious.

“It’s a surprise.”

“How do you know I’ll know it?” he asked.

“Oh, you will. Trust me.” Justin caught JC’s eye, and the two men laughed much to Lance’s horror.

“Do it, Lance. Come on, this was your idea.”

“See, even your boss wants you to,” Justin said, twisting Lance’s hand in his. “You’ve gotta.

“I don’t think I like the two of you ganging up on me,” he said grumpily. Justin just laughed, and squeezed his hand.

When they announced sign ups, Justin vaulted over a chair to get to the booth. He was tenth in line, and signed Lance and he up first, and then himself. The girls had begged off singing, and JC had claimed that he wanted to wait and judge the crowd before choosing a song.

They watched the first few singers with great amusement. One Latino guy did an amazing rendition of “Black Velvet,” which Justin said was a favorite song at the Pub, and a whole group of girls sang “I Will Survive,” laughing as they stumbled around the lyrics.

When it was their turn, Justin had to practically drag Lance up onto the stage. He stood under the spotlight blushing furiously. When the music started, he turned to Justin, teeth clenched but smiling and simply whispered “I’m going to kill you.”

But that’s all he could say before Justin began to sing: “I waaaaannnnt youuuuu to want me. I neeeeeed youuuuu to need me. I looooooovvvveeee youuuuu to love me. I’m begggggin youuuuu to beg me.” Smiling over at Lance, he really put on a show with the lyrics, and paused after the first verse letting Lance pick up the words.

Much to his surprise, Lance had a great voice, and got into the song just as much as he did. By the time they got to the end, both of them were grinning widely, singing loudly. When the final notes were hit, the crowd burst into applause, and Lance squeezed Justin’s hand before going back to his seat to watch Justin perform his solo number.

It was a slower piece, very different from the music that Justin usually had playing, but a song that Lance recognized right away. The romantic ballad started slowly, and Justin’s voice swelled with the music. It was an old Bryan Adams song, something that was usually only heard on bedtime radio and at weddings, but he breathed life into the song. It was obvious he’d had professional training from his hold on the mike and his stage presence. Lance was enraptured with Justin, couldn’t tear his eyes away. It was the first time he’d heard him singing more than a few lines here and there along with some CD or radio in a store.

When he was done, there was more thunderous applause, and women throughout the place were on their feet clapping. He handed the microphone back to the MC and, with a little bow, wove between the chairs back to his table. Plopping down next to Lance, he grinned. “That song always gets em,” he said, and downed half a beer.

Lance leaned in close to Justin and whispered in his ear above the ruckus group of guys singing Kid Rock… badly. “You were amazing. I had no idea you could sing like that.”

“I don’t sing much anymore. Sometimes it feels good to get back on stage, you know?” he smiled at Lance. “Thanks. And you weren’t half bad yourself. You’ve been holding out on me.”

Happily, Lance eased away from Justin, keeping his hand on Justin’s knee, and watched the singers. Across the table, JC smiled at him. “Impressive,” he said. “Very impressive, Justin.”

Justin grinned, and thanked him. Life was good, he thought, when you had love, beer, and a karyoke machine.

**

Justin had kept his job at Starbucks for the days he had off, so that he would have some spending money. He’d saved enough for his living expenses during the semester, but having a boyfriend did mean occasionally going out and doing things, so he wanted to have a little extra cash on hand.

The winter meant more people wanted coffee, so the shop was incredibly busy during January and February. Justin barely had time to think during his shifts.

He was in the process of training a new recruit when he noticed Lance had come in and was standing in the line. Leaving the new guy alone to work the register for a moment, he stepped back and motioned Lance around to the side of the counter.

“This is a really, really, bad time. I mean, I’m glad to see you, but. I can’t really talk.”

“It’s OK,” Lance said, drawing a large manila envelope out of his bag. I’m just the delivery boy here. Look at it later.” He handed Justin the package, and with a wink, was on his way.

Confused, Justin set the envelope down and got back to work.

When he finally had time to open it, it took him a long time to figure out what it was. A contract, it looked like, with a lot of legalese and the word “SAMPLE” stamped over the whole thing in red ink. Something about recording. Upon closer inspection, he found a post-it stuck in the envelop that explained.

Justin-

I was very impressed with your performance at the pub the other night, and would like to discuss with you the possibility of signing you to our label. Please look over this sample contract and let me know if you think this is something you’d be interested in. Call me at 617-828-1024 if you have any questions.

-J.C. Chasez

Justin blinked, then blinked again. The picked up the phone and called Lance.

“What the fuck is this?” he asked, foregoing the normal greetings.

“What? Justin?”

“This… thing you gave me? A contract? A fucking record contract?”

“JC was gonna mail it, but I said I could drop it by. Did you look at it?”

“Like hell. God, I can’t believe that you, of all people, would do this to me.”

“Justin, I don’t really understand…”

“Then let me spell it out for you. After everything I told you, about my mom and my decision to get out of performing, I can’t believe that you would hit me with this! Did you even listen to anything I told you?”

“Of course I listened. Justin, what the hell?”

“Exactly. What the hell were you thinking, asking me to get back into something I obviously hated and had caused me a great deal of pain in my life. Asking me to give up everything that I’ve worked so fucking hard for in the past three years.”

‘Justin, that’s bullshit. God, JC asked me to… I can’t believe you think that...”

“I’d think what? That you’re just like her? That you see me as a way to get rich? Did you know who I was before? Did you hunt me down, in the coffee shop? Was this whole thing some elaborate set up to get me to sign a record contract?”

Justin was screaming, irrational now. “I loved you! I fucking Loved You, and you slap this shit in my face. Well, go to hell, Lance,” he said, as he tore up the contract. “And take your damned contract with you.” He hung up the phone, then threw it against the wall, where it smashed to pieces.

**

Justin raged with anger after getting off the phone, and took off running, forgetting his keys in the process. He ran for miles, longer than usual, until his lungs were burning. Then, without money to take the T back home, he started the long, long walk from the end of the Esplenade by the science museum to BU. If anyone saw him, he must have looked a mess, tears streaming down his face. He thought, this must be what it’s like to have your heart broken.

He had really thought that Lance had understood why he never wanted to sing professionally again. He thought that Lance could see how much it hurt him and his family. Seeing that record contract had brought back so many memories, and sent so many scenarios running through his head. Lance wanted to be a manager, and had found someone he could manage. He didn’t really think that Lance had set out to find him based on his childhood career. But he couldn’t help but think that maybe the night at Ts had changed Lance’s intentions.

It was dark when he got back to the housing office to borrow a key, and he thanked God that tomorrow was one of the days he didn’t go into work until almost nighttime.

Days passed, and that was what he did- work. All of the time. Without Lance, he didn’t have any pressing engagements. His friends, knowing the true post-breakup Justin, gave him space. They’d be around when phase two hit.

Lance called several times, but Justin deleted the messages as soon as he heard Lance’s voice. He blocked him on AIM, too, after he kept getting IMs. There really wasn’t anything left to say.

**

FuManSkeeto: Hey!  
Justified: Hi  
FuManSkeeto: where you been lately?  
Justified: around. busy  
FuManSkeeto: how’s the job  
Justified: it’s good. I got to meet Bon Jovi last week  
FuManSkeeto: Dude, for real? That kicks ass  
Justified: it was pretty cool  
FuManSkeeto: that’s all  
Justified: I didn’t talk to him or anything. Just said hi  
FuManSkeeto: ok. Anything else going on? How’s the boy?  
Justified: we broke up, yo  
FuManSkeeto: WHAT!!!  
Justified: like, a week and a half ago  
FuManSkeeto: why?  
Justified: cause he tried to get me to sign a record deal  
FuManSkeeto: huh?  
Justified: He tried to get me to sign with his company  
FuManSkeeto: how come?  
Justified: cause his boss was out at karyoke with us, and heard me sing I guess  
FuManSkeeto: and this was a bad thing?  
Justified: you know I don’t want that  
FuManSkeeto: so, what, he was pressuring you?  
Justified: he delivered some contract for JC, his boss  
FuManSkeeto: and tried to talk you into signing  
Justified: no, not really  
FuManSkeeto: no?  
Justified: he shouldn’t have even asked  
FuManSkeeto: don’t kill me for saying this or anything, but  
Justified: what?  
FuManSkeeto: if it were me, I’d wanna know if something like that were out there  
Justified: well I’m not you  
FuManSkeeto: True  
Justified: And he shoulda known that’s the one thing not to press me on  
FuManSkeeto: true  
Justified: he’s a dick  
FuManSkeeto: did you ever call him on it?  
Justified: yeah. Well, I called him and told him to go to hell, and we haven’t talked since  
FuManSkeeto: did he say why he was giving it to you?  
Justified: that’s pretty obvious  
FuManSkeeto: I just. It sounds like he made a mistake  
Justified: yeah  
FuManSkeeto: but you never got his side of the story  
Justified: like I said, it was pretty obvious  
FuManSkeeto: Kid, you know what happens when you assume…

**

Chris’s words echoed in his head for a few days, while he kept up the furious work pace. The one good thing about being constantly busy is that he had no time to dwell on Lance and the whole explosion of his most successful relationship thus far.

Some guy at the radio station had given Justin a book on Payola, and he was reading it at the coffee counter one day, so lost in the unfolding scandal that he didn’t see a customer approach.

The ding of the bell startled him awake, and he looked up to see a guy who looked vaguely familiar, and it took him a moment to place the long hair and blue eyes as those of Lance’s boss, JC.

“Hello, Justin,” he said, smoothly.

“Hello.” Justin looked him square in the eyes. “What can I get you?”

“I actually wondered if I could talk to you for a moment.”

“I’m working,” Justin said, defiantly.

JC looked down at the book on the counter and then back at Justin, raising an eyebrow. Justin sighed.

“Fine. But if this is about the record contract, save your breath. I’m not interested.”

“I heard that, from a very upset employee. I just want to know why.”

“I don’t sing professionally. I’m sure you looked me up, found out I did when I was a kid. I didn’t like it. I don’t want to be famous, I don’t wanna be in show business. I like being behind the scenes.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way, since you have such an amazing talent.”

“Yeah, well, it’s my talent to waste as I wish.”

“Lance told me you want to produce music.”

“Yeah. Like I said, behind the scenes.”

“Did you read the part of the contract that said we’re willing to let you produce your album on your own, or with which ever producers you choose that we are able to acquire to help you? And that if we like what you do, we’d like to keep you on to work with our other artists?

Justin paused. “I didn’t read the contract.”

“Then you also missed the part that said we’re willing to wait until your graduation before we begin recording, because Lance said that finishing school was important to you.”

“Oh.” Suddenly, Justin was feeling very small. Still, Lance hadn’t told the guy he wasn’t interested, and he should have.

“And since Lance says that you aren’t together anymore, I’m guessing that he didn’t tell you that he begged us not to offer this to you, told us that you would turn it down, but I felt it was too good an opportunity not to give it a shot. So if you think that this was all his idea, think again.”

“I, uh.” Justin couldn’t seem to find the words to express the conflicting emotions running through his body. He was intensely relieved, incredibly embarrassed, and disappointed in himself.

“We’re still interested in signing you, Mr. Timberlake, or even just discussing this further if you would like.” He drew a card out of his wallet and slid it across the counter. “Please, give me a call. I think this could work out for both of us.” He glanced up at the menu, then down again. “I don’t think I’ll have anything today. I always liked Dunkin’ Donuts better anyway.” Then, as quickly as he had appeared, he turned on his heel and left.

Justin stared down at the card. All he could think is that he had royally screwed up.

**

Justified: What do I do?  
Slave4U: CALL HIM  
Justified: What if he won’t talk to me?  
Slave4U: Grovel  
Justified: God, I screwed up  
Slave4U: So call him and make it better  
Justified: he probably never wants to hear from me again  
Slave4U: would you want to hear from him?  
Justified: yeah  
Slave4U: then call him  
Justified: ok. I will. Tomorrow.  
Slave4U: NOW  
Justified: Fine. slave driver.  
Slave4U: you know it. Good luck.

**

Lance wasn’t there, but Justin left him a message that sounded something like “Hi, it’s me. And I’m an ass. I’m sorry about all the things I said, I just. You know how I get all crazy over that shit, and I just kinda blew up. Anyway, my friends kinda pounded some sense into me, and I talked to JC today, and just. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, and I miss you, and I wanted to tell you….* beep*

Lance couldn’t figure out what to do when he got the message, so he played it for Joey, who said to call Justin. He told his sister, who said to call Justin. He told some of his friends from college, who told him that he should move home and forget the crazy Bostonian.

In the end, he didn’t do anything. Not that night. He needed to think about it, because as much as Justin may have been hurting, Lance was too. And he wasn’t quite ready to deal with it yet.

**

Justin was persistent. He carried his cell phone around all the time, and kept calling Lance throughout the next few days. Every time, his messages got a little more rational and a little more psychological, until Lance finally gave in and called him, just to figure out what the hell he was trying to say.

Justin was at a club by the Fleet Center setting up lights when his phone began to vibrate in his pocket. Nearly breaking the fixture as he set it down too fast, he whipped out his phone and shouted “It’s him, it’s him!” to anyone who was within hearing distance.

“You’d better answer it, or he’ll be gone,” the DJ laughed, and Justin snapped open the phone just before the voice mail picked up.

“Hello,” he said, trying to sound cool and not like he had just been jumping up and down in excitement.

“Hey,” Lance said. “So, you called.”

“I called.”

“A lot.”

“Yeah. God, I’m so glad you called back. I thought I’d screwed things up forever.”

“Well. Maybe you did.”

“No, no, Lance you gotta understand. I was totally out of line, and I don’t know why I jumped to that conclusion. Well, I do know why, but my crazy family shit shouldn’t have anything to do with you, and I’m sorry I didn’t realize that sooner.”

Lance was so quiet at the other end of the line that Justin wasn’t sure if he was still there. Finally, he said “You should have known that I wouldn’t ever try to exploit you.”

“I do. I’m sorry. It was just such a shock. I mean, I think if you were there to explain it to me when I opened it, I would have handled the whole thing a lot better.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“I know I treated you like shit, and you should just walk away and never speak to me again, but is there any chance that, like, you don’t wish I was dead?”

“I don’t wish you were dead. God, Justin, how could you think that?”

“I dunno. I feel like I should be killed, for saying all that shit to you. Please tell me you know I didn’t mean it.”

“I know you didn’t mean it. And I’m sorry that I didn’t give you some kind of warning, that the contract upset you so much.”

“Would you maybe want to get together, and talk about this in person?”

“I… yeah. I would. You’re working tonight?”

“Yeah, I’ll be here until, like, two, so I guess we can’t tonight…” Justin paused to see his boss waving at him. “Hang on.”

“Go,” she said, smiling. “Make up with your boyfriend.”

“What? Are you sure, cause?”

“Go. It’s gonna be slow here, anyways. In case you’ve forgotten, it’s Valentines.”

“Oh. Yeah. You’re sure then?”

“Absolutely. Go.”

Justin smiled, then went back to Lance. “I’m off tonight. Lauren just let me go.”

“Then, how about you come over here?”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

It was an hour, really, by the time the green line streaked all of the way from North Station to Packard’s Corner. Rushing off of the train, Justin practically ran to the door of Lance’s building. He hit the buzzer, repeatedly, and it seemed like forever before the front door clicked and he went racing up the stairs.

Lance was waiting for him on the landing, wearing jeans, a sweater, and big fuzzy gray socks. He’d never looked better in Justin’s eyes.

“Hi,” he said, suddenly nervous, standing a couple of stairs down.

“Hey,” Lance said. He shoved his hands in his pockets, ill at ease with the tension between them.

“I’m so glad that you called.” Justin kept his hands on the banister, to keep from charging forward into Lance’s arms. “I thought I’d blown it.”

“I did too. I mean, thought I’d wrecked everything. I really am sorry.”

“Me too.” Justin took the last two steps so he stood on the landing, looking down at Lance.

“Why don’t you come inside?” Lance asked, and Justin followed him in the door. Lance had some music playing from his bedroom, and it drifted softly out into the living room.

“Is that Elvis?” he asked, and Lance nodded.

“You had it playing so much, I kinda got hooked on it.”

Justin grinned, and let his body drift to the romantic ballad. Wise men say, only fools rush in…

“Will you dance with me?” he asked.

Lance smiled. “You never did teach me how.”

“You know how to slow dance.” Tentatively, Justin reached over and drew Lance to him by the shoulders. He kept one arm there, and took Lance’s hand in his other, drawing their arms close to his body.

Being back in Lance’s arms felt like coming home, like happiness and comfort and everything that was right with the world all in one place. Lance moved closer, and laid his head against Justin’s shoulder as they danced in the living room. It probably would have been more romantic if they’d had more room, or if the lights had been turned off, but for Justin, it felt pretty perfect.

“I missed you so much,” he said. “Oh, God, it was only two weeks, but I missed you so much.”

“Me too,” Lance said. “Me too.”

“I love you,” Justin leaned down to whisper in his ear. “I love you.”

Lance seemed to melt against him at that. “I know,” he said. “And it’s mutual.”

The song ended, and something too fast to slow dance to came one, but neither one of them noticed.

**

Three months later, Justin sat on a hot soccer field and listened to some old politician talk about the future. It was hot, and the collar of his shirt itched under the bright red robe.

Britney was sitting a few rows in front of him, and she turned to wave. He waved back and made a face, making her laugh. What a great day, he thought, sitting out here with all his friends, graduating from college.

Turning in his seat, he grabbed the tiny pair of binoculars he’d brought and began to scan the crowd. Somewhere up there was his family, and Lance.

Sure enough, in the middle of the left hand set of bleachers, he found his dad and stepmother. His dad had the video camera going, no doubt zoomed on him, so he gave a little wave. His dad waved back, and soon his brothers were jumping up and down waving both arms above their heads. He could see the disgruntled faces of the people sitting behind them. He also saw his dad pointing down to his left. Expecting to see Lance, he scanned down looking for a blonde head.

He almost looked right past his mother before realizing it was her. He flashed back and focused, and sure enough, she and Paul were sitting in the bleachers reading the programs. His eyes welled with tears. He’d begged them to come, but never got a definite answer.

Turning back, Justin smiled, and reached for his cell phone. Making sure it was on vibrate, he sent Lance a text message: “My moms here!”

A message came back rather quickly: :)

Justin replied to it: Should I tell her I signed the deal?

Lance’s reply: Yes. Make her happy.

Justin smiled and answered: I will. Everyone should be happy today.

END


End file.
